Mocha Latte
by KittyKatz
Summary: Just a little bit of chocolate can take all the bitterness away. A wounded Inuyasha wakes up in a stranger's apartment and experiences a warmth and acceptance he's never had before. Intended to just be a series of dribbles that can hopefully be just a little bit of chocolate in your day! [T for language]
1. Atelier

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Atelier**

He woke disoriented and in pain, a hot, flashing, burning sort of pain that originated in his gut and pulsed outward in jagged, lightning sparks of agony. It took him many, many moments to conquer the pain, override it, and stuff it away to the back of his mind and take stock of his situation. At first, he was only aware of his body and his position, on his back, prone to attack and propped up against something soft and supportive. The textures against his skin were unnervingly foreign. When had he last felt a material so plush and supple? His breathing was shallow, it was difficult to intake air and each inhale was associated with a sharp, mind numbing throb. But slowly, very, very slowly, his other senses returned, bleary and warped at first, but growing in clarity and then, flooded with surprise.

The light around him was mellow and warm, bathing him and easy on his eyes. Gently flickering, round, blurry orbs sharpened to reveal a set of warmly scented candles, vanilla and cinnamon, that seemed to melt into him, giving him a sense of ease that had not been his for a very, very long time.

As his eyes sharpened and his sense of hearing returned, he came to the awareness that he was not alone. A soft tinkling, the sound of glass being struck rapidly, followed by a soft swirling against a smooth flat surface. A breath in that was not his, a creak as a body shifted, then a soft sigh. He turned his head slowly, his eyes seeking out the presence nearby, his body tensing as he tried to ascertain the potential threat. There was a long, draped sheet that obscured his view but through it, he could make out a silhouette. The figure was hunched over, clearly immersed in some activity. The head lifted, tilted to the side as the shadow stretched and then reach over to the side. Again the soft sound of tinkling glass followed by a swirling of a soft object against porcelain. Then the silhouette dipped down again, hunching over in concentration.

The pain had ebbed now, as his mind came fully awake. He cast his eyes about, taking in the details of this new environment in the dim light. He was unbound, which surprised him, and it afforded him the opportunity to slip away, if only he could find the exit.

Glancing down, he saw that he was reclined on an old, beat up mattress. Its owner's scent was embedded heavily into it and he wrinkled his nose slightly to note how it had rubbed off onto him. Nevermind the qualities in the scent that his sensitive nose could pick apart and read like a book, he didn't care. All that mattered at this particular moment was to escape.

The space was small and crammed. The floor was littered with papers and clothing. Combined with the pain of his wound, the obstacle course would be a considerable challenge for his normally very capable stealth. He continued to take in the details surrounding him. There was an exit here, somewhere. His nose detected the scents out the outdoors and his ears could hear the sounds of traffic. Where was the escape route?

Suddenly, a scraping sound came from the other side of the sheet, the telltale sound of a chair being pushed back as the shadow stood. He watched with narrowed eyes as the silhouette raised stiff arms to stretch before appearing to turn toward him. His body was tense and his instinctive reaction to fight or flee flared up within him, forcing him to grit his teeth together to stuff it back down. The shadow approached the edge of the sheet, an arm reaching over to pull the barrier aside. He quickly tried to relax his buzzing muscles, closing his eyes and trying to take on a pose that resembled sleep. He tried not to flinch when he heard the sound of the sheet being pulled aside and soft, padded footsteps creeping closer. Should he lash out? Strike first before his captor could harm him? His mind whirled as he tried to decide on his next course of action and was completely unprepared for the smooth, female voice that spoke beside him.

"I know you're awake. And you don't need to be so stiff."

There was silence for a very long second before he cracked an eye open to witness the owner of the bed he lay in. Female. Young. Dark hair and wide, brown eyes. She was dressed in some sort of oversized jean overalls that hung over an obviously lean, fleshed out body. The warm, flickering candlelight reflected off her smooth skin and as he took in these observations of her physical appeared, her voice spoke out again, bright and clear like a bell.

"I won't ask any questions and you're welcome to stay until that wound heals."

He blinked. It was not the words or the tone he was expecting. The confusion and uncertainty have shown on his face because her eyes softened into a smile that was soft and welcoming, an expression that hadn't been directed at him in years.

"You should try to get some rest," she said, "Even your kind will take a while to heal from an injury like that."

He frowned, still suspicious, still confused. Was he hearing her correctly? Was this a trick? Her expression turned sympathetic and she sighed, still smiling.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, "I don't have much but there's some chicken soup you can have."

He kept his face closed and wary. He wasn't ready to accept anything from this enigmatic young woman. He maintained his suspicious stare, ready for anything, an attack, an insult. She saw this and sighed again, shifting to one foot and stuffing her hands in her giant pockets.

"Well, just let me know if you need anything," she said, before slipping back behind the sheet, tugging it further along to darken his side of the room. There was a shuffling and a collection of clanking and clattering, and then a liquid being poured, and then a velvety, noisy sip of a beverage that smelled like chocolate. The chair scraped against the floor again as the girl returned to her desk. Silence followed, punctuated by the sounds of tinkling glass and swirling shuffles and though his every instinct demanded he remain vigilant in these unfamiliar surroundings, he found himself drifting. Exhaustion from the events that led to the gaping hole in his abdomen and the effort his body expended to knit itself back together eventually overcame him and he succumbed to the blackness of a deep, dreamless sleep.

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A/N: So… this one's probably going to be very sparsely updated and probably very serial in nature without any real plot…. just going to be written whenever inspiration randomly strikes.


	2. Lazy Morning

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 2: Lazy Morning**

* * *

A dim, bubbling sound preceding a sharp click woke him. A white ear flicked backward, reacting to the noise. Dark lashes slowly cracked apart as he opened his golden eyes. It had been a very long since he'd slept so deeply and there was a part of him greatly concerned with that. Had he been drugged?

There was a warm, natural light streaming in from the far wall and it fell over him, heating his skin, relaxing him further. It was so contrary to how he'd been waking up for the past several years, perhaps decades, and it confused him to a point where he could hardly move a muscle as he absorbed this strange situation he found himself in. The presence nearby shuffled and the sound of water dripping into a glass container caught his attention and he followed it in a strange, hazy trance.

Drip…

Drip…

Drip…

Then the smell permeated the room, a warm, dark scent that slowly reached into the deeper parts of his sleepy mind and drew him out. A buzzing sound came from the other side of the hanging sheet and another shuffling as the presence moved to answer her phone.

"What is it, Miroku?"

Her voice finished what the smell of coffee had started and now he was wide awake.

"So?"

There was an edge to her tone that put him on guard. She was obviously unhappy with the caller and he was suddenly curious as to why.

"It's your fault your agents didn't have the info to handle it properly, why should I help you?"

More sound of liquid pouring, sending another wave of that distinctive coffee aroma around the room. Then a tinkling sound. Then the muted sound of swallowing as the woman took a sip.

"Well maybe you should have thought of that when you sent her off to catch him in the first place. The half son of a daiyoukai is no simple task, idiot!"

 _That_ jolted him awake like a splash of cold water. She was talking about him! His eyes snapped open and he immediately began to seek out an escape route. There was a window, across from him, with the early morning sunlight trickling in, sparkling against drifting dust particles to create a dreamy effect. But he didn't linger on that detail, only concerned with the pulsing ward pasted over it. There was no escaping through that window.

"If Sango was hurt on that assignment, I'm coming after you, you know."

There was a cold, steely warning in her voice that he felt in his body more than he heard it. He felt his heartbeat growing faster in response, his eyes carefully following the faint shadow he could see on the other side of the sheet. She was moving down, coming closer to the bed where he lay and he began preparing his claws and fangs for the anticipated attack.

"Well maybe you should have thought of that _before_ taking the case," the tone of exasperation was strong in her voice. "It's my vacation time! I'm not answering any more calls from you!"

The sheet was pushed aside and the image of a grumpy, groggy young woman met his eyes. Her hair was a wild mess around her face and she glanced at his tense, ready position without concern. Switching off her phone, she threw it carelessly onto the nightstand and took a sip from her steaming mug as she assessed him with deep, chocolatey brown eyes.

"Calm down," she muttered, "You're in no shape to be fighting anybody."

It was true, although he felt considerably better than yesterday. His limbs still felt weak and heavy from the poison of the demon hunter's bombs and his side still ached from the slash of her blade. He narrowed his eyes at her, completely cornered against the wall and entirely suspicious now that he knew she worked with the people who'd attacked him. She raised a humored eyebrow at him, a smirk lighting up her face.

"I told you I wont ask questions," she said, "Relax, no one's gonna hurt you here."

The woman came even closer, within striking range and his hands trembled as he continued to teeter in his decision to either flee or attack. She didn't seem to notice or care, her eyes were only concerned with the bandages wrapped tightly around his abdomen, visually inspecting them before glancing up to smile confusingly into his face.

"Lookin' good, stranger," she said jovially, "I'm always so jealous by how fast you guys heal."

She stepped back, taking another long draught of her coffee.

"You're probably hungry," she said, "Probably should have something gentle on the stomach, yeah?"

She turned around and returned to the kitchen. Now with the separating sheet tucked to the side, he had an uninterrupted view of the room. It was tiny. The desk jammed against the wall was close enough for him to reach from the mattress. There was a beat up couch slumped depressingly against the far side of the room, half blocking the entryway to a small, cramped kitchen. Within, she made a racket with pots and pans, turning on the stove and fanning the air to disperse the smell of gas. A clean, savory scent began to permeate outward and his stomach growled excitedly in response.

"It's gonna be a little bland but I think some porridge should hit the spot," she was saying over her shoulder. To say he was perplexed by her treatment of him was a gross understatement. Perhaps that confusion was what stayed his hand when he'd been preparing to strike out at her. He took a breath and glanced around the room. The walls were absolutely jam packed with painted, warped papers, imagery of peaceful landscapes and colorful, dreamlike designs staining their crisp white sheets. Charms and knick knacks were propped up or hung from every conceivable surface and he couldn't help but feel embraced in this den like space, an organically and lovingly built nest. Across from him, the young woman began to approach him carefully, balancing a brimming bowl of steaming porridge on a tray. She began to lean over him and his eyes went wide as this body turned to stone.

"Careful, it's hot," she told him, gently positioning it over his lap before turning away. He had to remind himself to breath. That was way. Too. Close! Personal space, woman! It was like his brain went into lockdown as she'd dipped down in front of him, the wave of her scent crashing over him tsunami style. As warm and fresh as it was, he just couldn't get his thoughts past his absolute shock that such an ordinary, casual gesture was being directed toward him. Blinking several times, he finally managed to refocus his eyes and relocate the befuddling young woman. She'd wandered back into the kitchen and had filled her electric kettle again with water and the little, beat up thing looked completely unsafe as it rattled and hissed in an effort to service its owner. When her second cup of coffee had been brewed, she softly padded over, casually sinking into the mattress beside him and took a noisy sip.

"I gotta feed Buyo and Griff in a bit," she said absently. He couldn't be sure if she was speaking to him or herself. "Then I gotta get some more flour and eggs, and then stop by the leather shop, then check on Sango…"

He made a face as he glanced at her, her baffling behavior completely throwing him off kilter. The young woman picked at the lint sticking to her sweatpants, looking comical in her oversized, shapeless shirt. She snuggled into the pillows, bringing her bare feet up. She was so uncomfortably close, he almost couldn't stand it. Positively frozen stiff beside her, he couldn't even touch the brothy porridge she'd given him, despite how his stomach flipped and grumbled for it.

"You're not going to eat?" she asked him, turning to look into his eyes. His expression was classic deer-in-headlights. She stared at him for a moment longer, her eyes direct and unflinching. There was no judgement or emotion, just a direct, open stare. Finally, she shrugged and looked away. Much to his relief, she moved to stand, stretching her arms over her head, her mouth open wide in a jaw cracking yawn.

Absently, she placed her empty mug in her sink before hunting around on the floor, eventually pulling up a pair of jeans and tank top. His eyes flared wide before immediately clamping shut when she began undressing in the middle of the room. Behind his eyelids, the image of her bare rump caught in the sunlight was seared into his brain and he followed her movements with his ears, listening the sound of cloth shifting against skin. He heard a zip and a sigh and ventured open his golden irises again. Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he frowned as she grabbed a backpack and opened the door to the outside.

"You should probably keep resting for the day," she said offhandedly, "Just leave the bowl on the nightstand or something. I have protection charms so nothing should come wandering in while I'm gone."

Unceremoniously, she turned and left the apartment, the door clicking as it closed shut. And then he was alone. Confusion still swimming in his eyes, he glanced around again at the warmly lit, cluttered room before turning his attention to the still untouched bowl in front of him. He was salivating, practically drooling and then he didn't particularly care where he was or who that strange woman might be. He picked up the spoon on the tray and began to eat.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	3. Rainy Afternoon

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 3: Rainy Afternoon**

* * *

The air was wet and the sky was grey and he didn't move save for a flick of an ear when the apartment's owner returned. She broke the silence around him in a minor cacophony of crackling bags, stumbling as she struggled out of her shoes.

"You're up!" She said with mild surprise, "Jeez you guys heal fast."

She immediately stepped up to him and he back pedaled quickly, his face clearly displeased with her proximity. If she was aware of his discomfort, she ignored it studiously and focused intently on the bandaging around his stomach.

"Hmm," she muttered to herself, "I guess you'll live."

She whisked around and began to unpack her bags, taking her various purchases to their appropriate places. A rumble of thunder rippled through the air and gave her pause. She lifted her eyes to the window, observing the dark grey clouds and heavy atmosphere outside.

"You feeling up for a walk in the rain?" She asked brightly. She obviously didn't believe in waiting for responses to her questions, he concluded, as she immediately began digging around the room, eventually pulling a crinkling rain poncho out of nowhere and holding it up to him.

"That should fit," she said, seemingly to herself. "I'm not sure about shoes though… ah!"

Triumphantly, she turned from the storage bin near her front door, holding up a pair of flip flops that looked like they _could_ fit him. He sniffed with disgust, his ears laid back, a scowl growing on his face. The woman didn't miss a beat, pulling out a large, worn out sweater and handing it to him.

"Here," she said, "Some fresh air will feel so nice."

And then she was off again, this time into the kitchen, a clatter of dishes and kitchenware echoing out of the small, cramped space. The rickety electric kettle was set to boil and after a few minutes, the steaming water was poured out into a thermos and she was turning back to him. He hadn't moved an inch, holding the old sweater out in front of him with obvious distaste. She paused, assessing his body language before huffing.

"Well, be that way if you want," she said, brushing off his cold attitude, "but I'd be going bonkers if I were cooped up inside all day."

Stuffing her bottle into a small backpack, she pulled out a pair of brightly colored rain boots and a shiny raincoat, opening up the door and glancing back at him one more time.

"Last chance," she said, "You're call."

She paused this time, a breath or two longer than she had previously. It was as if she knew he was vacillating in his decision to be resolutely displeased with his host. Finally, the scowl deepened on his face as he felt his desires caving in to her offer, it _would_ be good to breath the fresh air.

The flip flops though, were left behind, laying dejectedly in a corner as the door closed and the room was enveloped in darkness.

…

The girl's moan turned into a high pitched squeak as she stretched her hands above her head before shaking herself like dog and stepping out under the dark grey sky. It was just beginning to drizzle, the shy water droplets tickling his skin as he followed silently, moving like a shadow behind her. She led the way with confidence, hardly looking back to see if he was even there, humming softly to herself, enjoying the wetness in the air. He could leave now, bolt. He could start running and there was nothing she could do to stop him. He glanced around, seriously contemplating it, befuddled with himself that he didn't immediately seize the opportunity to escape.

A fat raindrop landed on his nose, cold and shocking against his skin. Shortly after, another landed on the plastic of the poncho hood, and then another, stamping out a staccato rhythm that somehow seemed to match the tune the woman in front of him was humming. The space between raindrops shrank and suddenly, they were in the midst of a downpour. In front of him, a squeal erupted that rang painfully in his ears and she took off running.

"Come on!" She urged him. They turned a corner and he found himself standing at the edge of small neighborhood park, a wide, study wooden structure shelving them from the rain. The woman had slipped out of her backpack and set it down on one of the picnic tables, and then turned to beam at him, her smile bright and her cheeks flushed.

"Sorry!" She exclaimed breathlessly, "Probably shouldn't have made you run with those wounds. How are you feeling?"

"... I'll live," he muttered, the words slipping out before he even realized he'd spoken. He was surprised that he responded but the woman just breathed with relief then stepped back out from under the roof. And now he was watching her, frown furrowing over his eyes again. She flapped her arms, giggling maniacally in the rain, the hood of her jacket falling back so that water began streaming down her face from her drenched hair. And then, something amazing happened.

A shimmer in the air around her, at first he thought nothing of it. But then the shimmer grew more defined and became a shape. A shape with a face. The tattered and broken body of a boy, a dead boy, who materialized and watched the young woman in her exhilaration and joy over the late autumn shower. At first, he reacted protectively, ready to move in between this potential threat and the carefree woman. And then he remembered that he didn't care about her, would _prefer_ that she got hurt even, so he could be free to run off and carry on with his life. And while he was busy internally berating himself for his inexplicable sudden urge to defend this peculiar young woman, she turned to the ghost child, extending a hand to the bloody figure and welcoming the boy to play in the rain with her.

And now he stood, absolutely and completely dumbfounded, mouth hanging open, as more and more ghost children joined in. Even the spirit of the nearby oak tree emerged from its trunk to rejoice in the gift of rain. And then, her brown eyes turned to lock onto his, captivating him. And then a slender, open hand gestured toward him, inviting him to join them. And for a moment, his muscles moved to accept, magnetically drawn to the purity of her joy. And then he remembered himself and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to glare at her despite his continued shock over the entire situation. And again, she didn't press the issue, just shrugged and continued to dance and splash in the empty playground, surrounded by the translucent shapes of children in various stages of dismemberment, and a leafy, alien spirit of the oak tree.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, sulkily watching the fun while he continued to pass up his chance at freedom. Eventually, she stood still, breathless and laughing, then waved goodbye to the children before turning toward him, returning to the shelter, her jacket useless as she appeared to be completely soaked through underneath it. She was panting, her eyes gleaming and her face flushed. The smile across her face stretched from ear to ear and she laughed at him.

"You having fun standing there sulking?" She asked jovially. He glowered at her, releasing a quiet growl under his breath. There might be a little bit of regret in those golden eyes. She laughed again and sat herself down on top of the picnic table, peeling off her jacket and shirt before rummaging into her bag. Astonished by her lack of modesty, he quickly looked away, frowning at the playground slide while he listened to her pull out something, shuffling around to the backdrop of raindrops on the wooden roof. Finally, she sighed and he glanced back at her. In a new, warm looking sweater, she gestured to him, patting beside her on the table. She had her thermos out and two steaming cups poured, obviously expecting him to join her.

He stood stiffly for a second, two seconds, then shifted begrudgingly, sidling over to seat himself at the very edge of the table, slouching low with hunched shoulders. The sweet, dark smell of chocolate hit his nose and he glanced over at the cup now being held out to him.

"Mocha latte," she said brightly, "Best on rainy days."

His hands moved on their own, accepting the beverage carefully, before turning away from her again. Thunder rolled in the distance and the rain began to fall even more heavily, surrounding them in a blanket of white noise. A flash ripped across the sky and the girl beside him looked up as far as she could from under the park structure.

"Storm's getting closer," she muttered to herself. The park was situated on a hill and the view, while limited in between two very tall apartment buildings, opened up to overlook the rest of the city and the next time thunder rumbled above them, the girl sat up straighter, gazing eagerly into the distance until a streak of lightning sliced a jagged line through the sky. She gasped in delight, shivering as she stroked the rim of her cup before lifting it up to her face to take a slow, long sip. Then she sighed, her eyes wide and eager as she continue to watch for lightning.

He glanced down at the cup in his hands. He glanced at the city below them, grey and dreary and cold. He glanced at the woman beside him, completely incomprehensible in her excitement and happiness over a the thunderstorm around them. He rolled his eyes, huffed a sigh, and brought the beverage to his lips, taking a tentative, tiny taste.

The sweet, dark flavor washed over his tongue and settled over him like blanket. It embraced him, seemed to protect him. The air around him was wet and chilly but he was warm, nursing the hot drink in his hands, sharing a moment with a woman he didn't know.

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A/N: anything hot and chocolaty is the best on rainy days :D


	4. Cozy Evening

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 4: Cozy Evening**

* * *

The wind was gusty and the rain came down in icy cold sheets. The pair of hunched figures rushed hastily into the courtyard of the apartment complex, feet slapping wetly in the shallow puddles. His pants clung uncomfortably to his lower limbs, impairing movement and making his legs feel like cold hunks of flesh dangling beneath him. A low grumble was bubbling under his breath and grew steadily the longer he stayed in this drenched, cold state. The slimmer figure in front of him made a far different sound and was laughing maniacally as she fumbled with her keys to let them both inside the building.

"C'mon, c'mon!" she cried over her shoulder, the blustery wind whipping her words away from her lips.

"It's definitely a hot pot night!" the woman declared as she burst through the door of her apartment, sprinkling a shower of raindrops from her drenched hair. Behind her, a significantly less enthused individual stalked in, eyeing her with suspicion that, at this point, was more of a stubborn put-on than anything else. The female figure quickly shed her damp sweater onto the dejected looking couch at one end of the room, breezing into the kitchen to find the various meats and vegetables in support of her declaration.

He stood back, dripping in the doorway, mentally fighting the battle between just leaving now and waiting until after filling his stomach. He'd been questioning his presence beside her the entire walk back, mood turning sour the more water seeped under the poncho he wore. The young woman popped her head out from the kitchen, casting her eyes about before focusing on his stiff, grumpy figure in her doorway.

"Well, come on in and make yourself useful!" She said, "And take that poncho off, you're soaked through!"

He begrudgingly shifted to bring one foot and then the next into the cramped homey space. His skin was thoroughly chilled in the afternoon shower and his jeans stuck tightly to his thighs. The fabric clung to his skin and the discomfort added greatly to his sour mood. The crinkly plastic poncho stuck to him and he eventually shredded the blasted material, a growl developing at the back of his throat. The peculiar woman peeped out from the kitchen to witness his grumpy spell and didn't bother the stifle her giggle. His grumble grew louder in response but she resolutely ignored his growls and moved across the room to dig into a closet, eventually pulling out a thick, fluffy towel.

"C'mere you," she commanded. She seemed greatly amused by his reaction to the order. His ears flattened and both his fangs stuck out in a menacing growl. ' _No one orders me around, bitch!_ '

She simply rolled her eyes and stepped forward, bravely in the face of a snarling beast. Raising the towel up in between them, she swiftly took him by either side of his face and before he could snap his fangs or slash his claws, she was massaging his hair dry with the softness and murmuring to him softly.

"There," she said, "Doesn't that feel nice?"

He was positively stone stiff for a few rigid seconds before he was able to command his muscles to move. The girl jumped when his fist came up to roughly put an end to her confidently massaging fingers. There was a little piece of him that regretted the force of his movements as he ripped her hands away and stepped back, toweling his own hair dry and roughly tossing the damp material back at her. His eyes were narrowed, clearly indicating that he still didn't trust her. The girl didn't miss a beat, simply rolling up the damp towel and tossing it aside before turning around and digging through her closet again.

"I have some spare sweatpants you can use…," she muttered, "Ah! Here we are!"

She pulled out a bright red monstrosity and held it up to him expectantly. He eyed the gaudy attire with disgust, not at all interested in the clothing. Again, she took his reluctance in stride and simply stuffed the soft, fluffy material into his arms before whirling around and returning to the kitchen. He shifted uneasily, gingerly holding the fabric out and away from himself until he had to admit that warm, dry clothes were infinitely better than clingy, wet ones.

By this time, the gaping hole in his abdomen had stitched together enough for him to balance on one leg and peel the annoying, damp cloth of his jeans off his cold legs. The tinkle of a giggle could be heard from the kitchen and his eyes snapped over to make sure no one was getting a peep show. The human wench seemed completely immersed in the business of prepared something savory and delicious smelling and he proceeded to reluctantly step into the softness, almost startled by the sensation his nerves fired up to his brain.

The stark contrast of cold, stiff jean to soft, pliant sweatpants made his skin tingle and he struggled to stifle his innate reaction to savor the feeling and attempt to look displeased with his surroundings. A clatter erupted from the kitchen as he tugged off the oversized sweater and stood half naked in her living room just as the woman emerged, arms laden with dishes and chopsticks. She paused when she caught sight of him, her expression softening and she blinked once or twice before her eyes refocused on his face. She smiled widely at him.

"Glad to see you're healing nicely," she chirped brightly. Using a foot to nudge the coffee table out of the corner and into the center of the room, she clumsily set down the dishware before returning to the kitchen, reemerging with a portable gas burner.

"Think you can figure out how to turn that on?" she asked over her shoulder, breezing back into the kitchen. He narrowed his eyes and stood stock still. ' _Still not taking orders from no one bitch!'_ he thought to himself. The girl huffed a little to herself to see he hadn't moved an inch when she stepped out again, this time carefully balancing a steaming pot of broth. She rolled her eyes at him teasingly before finishing the rest of the set up and flicking on the burner. The savory scent of broth and herbs permeated the room and he couldn't help himself from salivating. The woman had left a window cracked open for ventilation and finally sat down beside the table, perusing her little stash of thinly sliced meats she'd laid out.

"Well?" her voice cut through the background noise of gently boiling water, "You gonna sit down or what?"

About two minutes. That was the longest his will could manage before breaking down and submitting to his hunger and the delectable scents rising from the pot. The woman, for her part, graciously shifted around the dishes and began heaping steaming beef and lamb slices in front of him without so much as a snort or snarky remark. She recommended the ponzu and sesame dipping sauces around a full mouth and continued chowing down. The meal was consumed silently, with clacking chopsticks and clattering dishes, and an occasional slurp as the young woman joyfully and noisily sipped at the now, meaty, fatty broth.

"Ahh…," she said with a sigh, "That really hits the spot!"

She leaned back against the couch behind her, spreading out her arms on either side of her head and sinking down like slowly melting wax. Though he wasn't much for manners, he did try to stifle a belch but failed spectacularly, resulting in an explosion of bubbly giggles across from him and a bright red stain on his cheeks. The young woman sighed as her laughter tapered off and she groaned to push herself to her feet.

"Glad you liked it!" she said casually, stacking up the empty dishes and disappearing into the kitchen. The whirring of the overused kettle once again chimed from the doorway and moments later, she re-appeared holding two mismatched steaming mugs. She set both down on the cleared table and sank to the ground again, tugging off a soft, fluffy blanket from the couch.

"Come sit on this side," she asked him, patting the ground beside her. He instantly stiffened, the initial euphoria of a fully satisfying meal, vaporizing and replaced with caution and suspicion. She seemed to take in all this and shrugged.

"Hey," she said nonchalantly, bringing the steaming mug close in her hands and letting the vapor tickled the underside of her chin, "You do you."

He glanced at her askance, admitting to himself that it did look quite comfortable to be snuggled up underneath the thick blanket, her hands sticking out like little caterpillar legs carefully bringing the mug up to her lips. She yawned wide, her head craning back against the couch.

"You should finish the tea," she said, "I put ginger and honey in it. I'll get you a towel and a toothbrush. Take your time but I think I'm gonna hit the hay."

He retained his statue still position beside the table, his ears following her as she bumbled around the apartment and performed her nightly rituals. When she softly padded back to the couch, falling into the sagging cushions and tucking the blankets under her chin, he realized that he'd been taking up her bed, and she'd been awkwardly making do with the small, beat up sofa. A strange tremble inside of him tried to reach his heart in reaction to this epiphany, but he shoved it back down quickly. And when he glanced up again at the figure on the couch, she was breathing evenly, warm and bundled, and there was something extremely peaceful about the atmosphere in the quiet room.

His golden eyes surveyed the dark, cluttered space, the ornaments hanging on the walls, the muted ticking of the mounted clock, the soft breathing on the couch. There was a drip coming from the kitchen sink and outside, quiet whirring grumbles as cars drove past. Eventually, when he'd absorbed as much peace and tranquility as he could from the space, he stood, gingerly, staring down at the sleeping lump in front of him. He hadn't expected to feel so conflicted. It had only been a day and a night and already he felt tendrils of longing that found nooks and crannies in his walls and creeped into them like vines. One more night would be a night too long.

He cast his eyes around, trying to find his jeans. After a minute, he noticed them hanging out of the laundry hamper and briefly debated leaving them. Then he glanced down at the bright red sweatpants and grimaced, and went over to rescue his pants. There was no sign of his shirt, it was probably in tatters anyway. For a moment, he pondered taking the sweater he'd cast aside earlier… no. He wasn't a thief. In very short order he was ready to leave and glanced back over to the couch. The furniture was short, the curled figure could barely fit, even fully folded with her knees tucked under her chin. He huffed to himself, annoyed by his guilt, then rolled his eyes and stomped toward the sleeping girl. It had been a very long time since he'd handled something without trying to kill it. He was awkward, and jerky, but the woman gave no indication of awakening. She was warm against his chest and there again, he felt a strange trembling in his stomach that tried to reach for his heart. Stiffly, he stalked over to the bed and tried to lay her gently on the mattress. She sighed as she sank into the pillow and he sighed to be done with it all. He let his eyes roam the room one last time, lingering again on the prone, slumbering figure, before turning and heading toward the door.

"You're welcome back, anytime you need," her voice slice through the silence. He froze, heart jolting in fright, "My charms recognize you now, you'll always have a safe place here."

Far too clear and far too awake, her voice darted out to grab hold of something deep inside him and he resisted the trembling that once again vibrated upward from his gut. He swallowed. He sniffed. And then he walked briskly to the door, opened it with more abruptness than he'd intended, and slipped out. The door eased shut behind him and silenced rushed in. Outside, he stood silently for a short while, frowning at the welcome mat, surprised by how hard it was to take the next step.

And then he paused. He took a breath and squared his shoulders. And then he willed his feet to move, one step at a time, back into the darkness and the unknown.

* * *

A/N: sorry for the delayed update… this story is really just supposed to be a little escape for me whenever I need a break and boy do I need one right now. Been traveling for work for a month straight so I'm really glad I had a chance to sit out and just vegetate. Got another update for my other story on the way so stay tuned! Hopefully it meets expectations!

Ciao y'all!


	5. A Light in the Dark

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 5: A light in the dark**

* * *

Dangerous. It was a dangerous habit he was picking up. The white haired figure pulled the tattered coat tighter around his shoulders, a deep grumble vibrating outward from his chest. The jacket had holes almost as big as the one in his gut and the cold, wintry winds blew straight through it, no matter how he huddled. His perch was high above street level, within the empty boughs of a naked maple tree, with only a few fiery red leaves stubbornly clinging to its branches. He was far too exposed and still far too weak to be risking an attack. Yet here he was, sitting grouchily against the thick trunk of the old hibernating tree. His eyes were a pair of glowing, yellow embers peering down through skeletal branches. Down toward a warmly flickering light that perched delicately on a very particular window sill.

He'd come back every damn day since leaving, drawn back to her apartment like a moth to a flame. The first time time, the sharp, distinct scent of a heavily spiced, savory meal almost tore him apart as his stomach twisted upon itself. It was a lot of work to recover from a puncture wound that went straight through his torso, particularly one with a very generous dose of poison, and his body complained loudly at his lack of care. He sniffed sharply and continued to grumble while his eyes never left the wobbly candlelight that sat alluringly in the window.

The second night, just as dusk lay down its heavy blanket over the quiet neighborhood, he found to both his annoyance and inexplicable joy, she'd been expecting him. A paper bag sat in the planters outside the window, and even in the dimming light, his sharp eyes could make out the wispy rise of steam emerging from the hot meal. The nights were growing colder and he couldn't deny the gargantuan urge he felt to steal over that window, balance ever so carefully on the tree branch beside the building and lift up the offering for his stomach to rejoice over. His appetite nearly took hold of his mind and it was the sudden shock of a flock of birds startled into flight that broke his concentration. He recoiled his arm quickly, staring down at it with an accusatory frown for betraying him so. He'd retreated soon after, leaping away from roof to tree top, just another shadow among many in the encroaching night.

Tonight's offering was a fold of cloth, puffy and warm looking, carefully weighed down by a thermos mug that no doubt contained something hot and delicious. This time, his stomach growled louder than his throat and he flashed his fangs in annoyance, tilting his head to glare down at the uncooperative organ. This nightly habit was becoming far, far to dangerous, for his own body to betray his position like this. The shadowy figure in the tree was briefly stayed in his departure by the tinkle of laughter that cascaded out of that brightly flickering window that died down then swelled again in a full bellied laugh. The shadow with white hair and a tattered coat grit his teeth and clenched down with all his strength, forcing down the powerful urge to approach the warm, beckoning light. Then, he turned, resolutely refusing to look over his shoulder, and launched himself up into the darkness of the evening sky.

The corner in which he would spend the night was not far away. Only a few blocks down and another street over, but it took him several more hours before settling down in this small patch. He circled that small, little, cluttered apartment several times, gradually increasing his radius, either eliminating the small vermin or noting the changes in his scouting range. A neighbor was now locking their garbage bins, and there was a new family of racoons in the hollow knot of the nearby oak tree. One or two rat demons that wandered too close for comfort that were giving the local cat population a challenge and a particularly fat feline that for some reason greeted him each night during his rounds. By the time he'd finally arrived at his little scratched out nook, the moon was high overhead and he pressed his back heavily against the hard cement wall. The corner wasn't much, just a small, noticeably garbage free joining of three planes with three marks that betrayed his position as he rested for the night. The golden eyed, white haired figure placed a dirty, bare foot on one of the smudges, almost unconsciously assuming his one knee down, one knee up sleeping posture, the pads of his feet and the seat of his pants rubbing off the dust from the cold, dirty ground and gradually warming the longer he maintain contact.

Cold seeped in quickly where he made contact with the hard walls. Still, it was better to be out of the wind and out of sight. It was unusual for him to return to the same nighttime patch several nights in a row. But somehow, in this particular corner of the city, it felt secure, safe somehow, as though someone's watchful eye carefully guarded this space. He sat there a long time, the goosebumps along his arms and legs were tight and he shivered. He closed his golden eyes and recalled the light in the shadows, bobbing and flickering, like the fragile thing it was, yet steady, and constant, waivering but stubbornly holding on, shining bravely in the darkness. It was hard to describe this thing he felt, seeing that small flame of hope fighting off the blackness of the night. A strange sort of swelling in his chest, that made him worry briefly that something was wrong with his body. As though perhaps, the poison the demon slayer had was still in him, sweeping through his veins and making his heart feel many times too large for his chest. But then, alone in that cold, hard corner, a clawed hand would reach up to feel his own heartbeat, confirm for himself that he was alive, and then his mind would slowly give way to memory. The warm, yellow glow of candlelight that bathed a slender figure dressed in oversized garb. She'd approach him, her hands filled with steaming containers and he'd smell it. Dark and sweet, cutting through the chill and the bitterness and the taste would run along his tongue as though truly holding it in his mouth. His body tingled to remember the sensation. The warm, heavy taste of chocolate.

* * *

A/N: let's just pretend that dog demons can have chocolate. Or that Inuyasha's half human side can handle it… yeah...


	6. A tiny warmth

A/N: um, minor change: it is no longer fall (I think i mentioned it was autumn in an earlier chapter), I decided to change the time frame of all this to spring because I wanted to write about baby bunnies...

* * *

 **Mocha** **Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter** **6:** **A** **tiny** **warmth**

* * *

Thunder rolled distantly in the sky and a sudden jagged flash of light illuminated his dark corner. The huddled figure was curled tightly into itself, silver white hair clinging wetly to his back. Water ran in little rivulets down his bare back, sinking cold shivering tremors into his skin. This fucking sucks.

 _"My charms recognize you now, you'll always have a safe place here."_

He growled softly to himself as the rain continued to beat down on his exposed figure. It was a downpour and the clouds overhead were still dark and heavy with the promise of even more rain. He was used to the cold, but his body bore it reluctantly. It had recently had a taste of warmth and softness and the comfort of a small, cozy home and that memory was a stab at his mental fortitude as he stubbornly waited out the storm.

The dawn struggled to shine through the cloud layer and the day only managed to brighten into a cold, moody gray. Eventually, his joints complained over the stiff, cramped position and with a grunt and a groan, he uncurled and stood. It was a gloomy new day and his subconscious new exactly where to go to feel just a little bit better.

Before he was really conscious of his movements, he was back in that bare maple tree, furtively glancing down at the dark window. It was early in the morning and the apartment's occupants had obviously not yet roused for the day. He sighed, surprised by how disappointed he felt at the darkness in that window. Glancing around, he clutched at himself as he observed the suburban neighborhood below. The pavement was slick with rain and white, artificial light shimmered and danced as it bounced against the ground. Every now and then, the harsh, startling headlights of a vehicle would round the corner and he'd press himself tightly against the rough bark in and effort to remain undetected. The rain had lessened, but maintained a blanket of white noise that lulled him as he roosted on that branch and gazed down at her window. He blinked and his eyes roamed. The grass below was fresh and vibrant, joyous of the rain and fearless of the cold. The rain water pooled near the curb, creating little eddies and streams as it tumbled toward the drain. A little, still object lay like discarded trash on the lip of the drain and for some reason, it caught and held his attention.

Scent was difficult to gather in the wake of the stormy night and he couldn't identify the tiny lump below him from the distance. The shadows across its surface gave him the distinct impression that the thing had fur. Perhaps that was why his eyes were drawn to it. He studied the small, round, sodden lump, and found that he began to recognize tiny paws and ears the closer he looked. And suddenly, it twitched, tiny little feet waving uselessly on its side as the poor, drenched rabbit shivered intensely as though desperately struggling for life one last time.

It was hard to put into words, the wave of emotion that swept through him. Regret for the young life lost, melancholia, pity. He knew how it was, that life was cruel and harsh and uncaring and he seemed to feel the wheel of life turning as the tiny rabbit's movements stilled, stiffly, in the dark, stormy morning. The thought that the little thing would die pressed its way through him, like moisture seeping into his skin.

But then, its hind foot kicked out again, knocking the precariously balanced bundle of fur off the lip of the drain and suddenly, he was in motion, swooping down to the gutter, a desperate hand reaching elbow deep into the mysterious dark world below.

 _'I can't let it die.'_

He couldn't quite define how or why this thought suddenly rose up in his mind, commandeering his free will and causing him to bring the little fistful of fur to his chest. He was hardly thinking as his body moved, his bare feet slapping against the wet pavement. They swiftly brought him to the apartment door where he stood, dripping enough water to fill a small bathtub, hesitating with a hand hovering above the doorbell.

A click from the other side and suddenly, the door burst open, revealing a confused, sincere face that gazed up at his. The expression he bore must have been obvious in its distress because her warm brown eyes filled with concern, frowning, before dropping down to focus on the tiny lump in his hands. Her eyes went wide, her frown lifted and her face brightened with understanding. Her hands opened immediately to accept the precious bundle.

Burden relieved of, he immediately took a step back, prepared to flee but her voice froze him to ground.

"Were there any more?" She asked, "Rabbit nests will often have several babies."

His eyes went wide and he whirled around. "I'll check," he muttered, before disappearing from sight.

She had hardly had enough time to dig out a fresh, dry towel when he reappeared before her door, a tiny furred lump in each hand. One already had the scent of death creeping into it and he gingerly held it back while handing her the second, half drowned rabbit. Before he could escape, she was ushering him back inside, that gaudy pair of red sweat pants again thrust into his arms, and pushing the door closed to bar his exit.

"Get yourself dry," she urged, turning back to the two rabbits in her arms, "And I have beef stew leftovers in the fridge. I'll heat it up as soon as we warm up these little guys."

They were small, both could fit easily in her slender hand. She held them close against her chest, their dampness seeping into her shirt. Her warmth began its work, gradually bringing up their body temperatures and she smiled to feel their little bodies beginning to revive.

He watched her in an odd state of detachment, one hand holding the rabbits' dead sibling, the other gripping the sweatpants as though he'd forgotten what to do with them. She looked up at him, her chocolate brown stare direct and bright and suddenly, a tension he hadn't realized was there seemed to drain out of him, leaving him feeling weak and dazed as she approached him. The smile on her lips seemed to feed a fire in his gut and it warmed him from the inside out.

"It's good to see you again," she said, gently taking the dead rabbit from his lax hand. She carefully laid the limp creature on a discarded towel on the table before turning back to him, placing her hand on his to encourage him. "Get those sweatpants on and come sit down. We can give this little guy a send off after the rain ends."

He blinked and glanced at the rabbit on the table, then brought his gaze to the living pair in her arms. He should get going, there was no more reason to stay. But then he felt her warm hand on his wrist, pulling him further into the apartment and as though his brain had disconnected from his body, he allowed himself to be led to the couch.

"Here," she said gently, "They're mostly dry now, hold them close to warm them up. I'll heat up something for you."

He stared at the little towel wrapped bundle she handed him and with excruciating care, lifted them closer to his chest. He was stiff, but he let this bewildering woman drape a thick, fleece blanket over his shoulders, despite flinching when he felt her fingers brush against his skin. She ignored the unconscious gesture and moved on to the kitchen, the familiar sound of pots and dishes clanking as she worked. It wasn't long before a warm, savory scent drifted into the living room and she re-emerged with two mugs of steaming tea.

"It's hot," she warned, setting down his share. Reached toward him, she held her arms open, gesturing to the rabbits he cradled and after an unsure breath, he relinquished them to her before reaching down to tug at his clammy wet jeans. Glancing up at her, he was relieved that she had turned her back, waiting for him to change. He paused, taking note of her appearance for the first time. The shirt she wore was loose and comfortable, with a wide neckline that fell to the side and exposed a smoother, slender shoulder. She was hunched over, engrossed with the little breathing bundle and he found his eyes drawn to the way her hair split at her neck, allowing just a peak of creamy colored skin to peek through. He frowned suddenly, conflicted and disturbed by how his thoughts and his eyes felt magnetically drawn to her. Shaking his head slightly, he finally turned his attention to changing into the borrowed clothes. His skin tingled as he shed his wet attire. Again, he was bemused by the surreal feeling of the soft, warm material, both the sweatpants and the blanket around his shoulders. Harshness, he understood, knew how to respond to. But this softness, in both her demeanor and in what she offered him, left him frozen and disbelieving. As though he were living in a dream, in a world that could not possibly exist in reality.

When he'd settled, she turned back around, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him. He found himself unable to hold her gaze, and awkwardly glanced around the room, taking in the familiar trinkets and artwork. Surprise washed over him to spot a new painting propped up on the desk, slowly drying in the warm room. It was of a tall figure wearing red, topped with streaming white hair and two triangular ears, facing away from the viewer, surveying a dynamic, colorful swirl of bold, curving brushstrokes. There was a bizarre sense of movement and peace in the figure. The girl followed his gaze and chuckled, bringing his attention back to her.

"You leave a very striking impression," she told him. He searched her face for the briefest of moments, trying to find some clarity in the strange swirling emotions he felt within him, somehow so perfectly captured by the thrashing colors in her painting.

Something in the kitchen bubbled and she rose, leaning across the coffee table to return the little bundle of baby rabbit to him while she served the leftover stew. Looking down at the two breathing lumps of fur, he had to bite his lip over the strange swell of warmth that burned and tingled inside him. Shifting, he brought out a dangerous, clawed hand carefully, oh so carefully, to stroke the soft, downy fur. The two fuzzy creatures shifted against each other and he couldn't help the small twitch of a smile that played at his lips. Slowly, carefully, he brought his hand down again, gently feeling their trembling, pulsing bodies. They were warm.

* * *

A/N: While I was in college, I stumbled across a baby bunny that was dying in the middle of rainstorm. At first I thought it was too bad and walked right past it but something stopped me. I thought I'd just try to dry it up and leave it in a covered spot, but once I picked it up, I just knew I had to do everything I could to save it. I was on my way to work so I called my boyfriend and he was able to come over to pick it up. Between the two of us and the internet, we were able to get it back on its feet and it seemed old enough to eat solid food so we released it nearby. Sadly, I wasn't very clear about where I found it so despite my boyfriend's best efforts, he wasn't able to find any of its siblings before it was too late so it was the only one of its litter to survive. We were recently flipping back through some old college memories and this little story came up and I felt like writing about it. Figured in fiction at least we could save one more of its siblings :P

Also, yay! Inuyasha's back with Kagome again!


	7. The sounds of peace

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 7: The sounds of peace**

* * *

There was very little warning when the front door burst open and a tall, ponytailed woman strolled in. For the briefest of pauses, they both froze, staring stiffly at each other before everything happened at once.

"You!" she shouted, drawing a sword out of nowhere and lunging toward him.

He was caught in a dilemma, still cradling the two surviving rabbits in one hand, rather securely settled in the couch and the other hand tipping the last dribbles of beef stew into his lap. His instincts kicked into high gear, sending a buzz of adrenaline tingling through his veins. He leapt up from the couch just as the intruder slashed through the sofa he'd just been lounging on. The studio apartment was cramped and provided very little landing space and so he found himself slamming against an old bookshelf along the wall, decorative pottery and picture frames clattering to the ground and shattering to pieces. The apartment's owner dashed out of the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand and dusted with flour.

"What th-," she cut herself off as she took in the scene. Him snarling from a crouched position near the door, while the new girl stood sturdily on the abused couch, sword raised and prepared to swing again.

"Sango!" she exclaimed, rushing in between them and raising her arms in a defensive gesture, "For pity's sake!"

The Sango woman flipped quickly to glare at the figure now shielding him with her own body. It was the strangest mix of emotions he felt to stare up at her back, slowly coming to the realization that she had acted without thinking, and automatically stepped up in his defense against a deadly weapon.

" _Another_ one, Kagome?!" the armed woman groaned with exasperation, "You realize _that's_ my latest assignment, right?"

 _'_ _Kagome… So that's her name,'_ he mused absently, before flinching and growling in reaction to seeing the gleaming blade pointed down at him.

"In this apartment, he's my guest," Kagome stated flatly, her voice steely and serious. There was a tense silence while both girls glared stubbornly at each other, before Sango blinked and sighed, lowering her naked blade. Kagome then seemed to deem the crisis dealt with because her stance loosened and she stepped toward Sango to carelessly tap the sword with her wooden spoon, showering a little dusting of flour onto the damaged couch.

"Put that stupid thing away and sit down," she said, her voice annoyed, her expression resigned, "My poor couch…"

Sango walked stiffly past him as he continued to snarl at her. Kagome clunked him lightly on the head, startling him out of his posturing. It was a very disquieting thing, how she was able to approach him and strike him so easily. He was usually far more aware of his surroundings. That she could draw so close, close enough to knock him in the head, was a concerning development for him.

"That's enough from you," Kagome admonished him before turning back to the kitchen. The silence that followed was excruciating in its tenseness as Sango glared daggers at him, setting down her sword in the umbrella stand with a sharp clang. His muscles contracted painfully as he maintained in stone still position, half fleeing, half preparing to defend himself. The tension stretched tersely in the air while Kagome fussed with whatever it was she was working on in the kitchen, ultimately emerging again, with a slight sheen of sweat of her brow.

"So," she said with a sigh, "What's up?"

Sango cast a sidelong glance his way, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to prickle as they stood on end. She appeared to roll her eyes before shrugging and turning her attention to the strange young woman hosting them.

"Nothing really," she replied, casually reaching into the closet near the door, reemerging with a dustpan and small hand broom. She set to work clearing the shattered pottery while continuing, the shard tinkling musically in the background. "Miroku's not too pleased about this latest assignment. Our client is very eager to have this case resolved as quickly and discreetly as possible."

Kagome snorted as she bent over to inspect the gash in her couch. Meanwhile, he retained his stiff, ready to flee position near the doorway, a clawed hand still pressing the two tiny breathing warmths against his chest. When the apartment owner turned towards him, he twitched unconsciously, uneasy in the presence of one he recognized as a threat.

"Don't worry," Kagome said to him, catching his eye and somehow spellbinding him in her gaze, "Nothing's gonna happen to you while you're in my home."

Sango, who by now had seated herself comfortably on Kagome's bed, snorted deliberately, daring the young woman to keep her promise.

"Relax," Kagome insisted, reaching down to tug at his elbow, "Come sit down, you're making me nervous."

He was surprised when his lungs began to burn, he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. And when her fingers touched his arm, there was a flood of sensation that his stressed and suspicious mind could not process. Perhaps his astonishment with his own predicament numbing his brain was what allowed the young woman to lead him back to the couch, the undamaged side, and press him back down into the cushions. Before she straightened back up, he caught scent of a warm sweetness in her hair and that little sensory jolt helped return the gears in his head into motion. She stared softly down at him, a tender hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"Keep those little guys warm," she said quietly, "I'll get you another set of pants as soon as I'm done with the cookies."

Kagome once again disappeared into her kitchen, leaving him alone with his assassin and he shifted uncomfortably. Sango's eyes were on him, a direct stare that was masked and betrayed nothing of her thoughts, whether or not she planned to attack him again, regardless of what Kagome had promised. A creaky rattle of the old oven door opening and closing, and then Sango blinked, turning to Kagome as the young woman once again emerged.

"So," she said leadingly, "How'd you two meet?"

Kagome laughed easily, amused by Sango's insinuating tone. She pulled out a soft fleecy pair of pants from the closet and handed it to him. Without a care in the world, she plunked down on the damaged side of the couch beside him, the vanilla and sugar in her scent wafting out to imbue the room. He had to quell a shiver as her arm brushed close to his, the fine hairs on his skin trembling at her proximity.

"You were so kind as to practically drop him at my feet," she answered, extending her hands to him, gesturing toward to sleeping rabbits. She nodded toward the bathroom cradling the two breathing fur balls in her arms. Stiffly, he moved to get up, confused by her blatant carefree demeanor. He stood in the bathroom for several seconds, a swelling in his chest that made his skin feel too tight. What a strange, incongruous setting he was finding himself in, lounging on a couch across from a woman who'd nearly killed him, and beside a woman who'd saved him. He could hear fluttery chatter from the other side of the door, relaxed and casual, somehow soothing in the way their voices rose and fell. He stared down at the material in his arms. It was soft and plush, with a warm inviting scent just like the rest of the cozy apartment. He couldn't help himself and his thumb stroked the fabric, the fidgety, outward movement a manifestation of the conflicting emotions inside of him.

By the time he'd re-emerged, a quiet serenity had descended on the apartment. Sango leaned against the wall, still seated on Kagome's bed, comfortably making herself at home and half way through a book that had appeared out of nowhere. Kagome smiled warmly at him, patting the cushion beside her and immediately deposited the rabbit bundle back into his hands just as a timer dinged in the kitchen.

"Perfect timing!" She said, winking at him as she stood.

What followed was a gush of delicious, warm, sweet scent that billowed out into the main room. Despite a belly full of savory beef stew, he felt himself salivate in reaction to the scent of vanilla and nutmeg and chocolate. A cough from across the room alerted him and he looked up to spot Sango staring at him again. He stiffen instantly, prepared from some kind of offensive but she just shrugged at him.

"Kagome bakes a mean cookie," she said, "It's why I'm here every Sunday."

"Aw, thanks Sango," Kagome cooed, returning with a plate full of goodies in her hands. She deposited the steaming platter of deliciousness on the coffee table and plunked back down next to him.

"Help yourself," she said, before reaching behind the couch and pulling out a pair of sticks connected by wire. His golden eyes frowned, staring curiously at the thin clicking objects. A fluffy, blue ball of yarn was unceremoniously tossed into his lap and he jumped in surprise.

"Relax," Kagome told him again, "And help me keep that from getting tangled up."

Silence followed, a noisy silence. Sango filled up a plate of the freshly baked cookies and returned to lounging on the bed. She crunched away happily, suddenly ignoring his presence despite having tried to kill him just minutes ago. Beside him, Kagome was embroiled in her own little task, the clickity clack of her knitting needles tapping rhythmically against each other as she worked. He was rubbish at managing the yarn ball and the young woman eventually took it from him with a laugh, setting it aside and handling it herself. The flutter of a page turning caught his attention as Sango read. And even deeper, the pitter patter of the tiny heart beats in his hands, the soft shuffling of Kagome's thickly socked feet as she shifted, while outside, the rain continued to drip and drop lightly against the window. His mind wandered idly without him realizing it, drifting from sound to sound, absorbing the strange, yet natural peace that settled into him, penetrating even his bones. His limbs suddenly felt heavy and before he could even begin to worry over being drugged or entranced, his eyes fluttered as he heaved a deep sigh, only absently registering the figure beside him as she shifted, sinking down one side of the cushions so that his head surrendered to the force of gravity. A soft, warm darkness embraced him before he was even aware of the tickle of her hair as it fell against his cheeks, her sweater clad shoulders welcoming as he leaned his weight against her. His dreams were gentle, quiet things, an embrace so tender and endearing, he felt it pierce through his heart with a powerful bittersweet taste. But then careful, gentle fingers brushed against his cheeks, and swept all evidence of his pain away.

* * *

A/N: Hey folks! So, I was totally intending up update sooner but I've been away attending my first Indian wedding… and those things are no joke! I'm exhausted! I totally thought I'd be able to write on the plane but I ended up sleeping pretty much the entire way back! Haha…. Anyways, hope you guys like this little dribble. I promise I'll be updating Forever Home in the next week or two with an epilogue (finally!) and then may go into hibernation figuring what the next big project will be :P

Thanks for reading and definitely let me know what you think!

Happy New Years everybody!


	8. Soft Goodbye

A/N: This update is brought to you by Evil Illusions, who reminded me that Mocha Latte could really use a bit of love :)

* * *

 **Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 8: Soft Goodbye**

* * *

"I still can't believe he fell asleep!"

"Shhh!"

His climb back to consciousness was slow and hazy. And despite his usual suspicion of nearby presences, he felt oddly comforted by their nearness. His lungs expanded wide in an exaggerated breathe, collapsing slowly in a drawn out sigh. The scents of nutmeg and vanilla still lingered in the air, combining with a woody dampness that reminded him of calm, peaceful places. A densely wooded thicket, a springy, mossy carpet on a dark forest floor. He could almost taste the sweetness of that air.

"Right, right, let 'im sleep. You coming in this week?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

The voice was soft and smooth from somewhere beside him and he felt something surge inside, shifting as if trying to be closer. A warmth rustled beneath his shoulder and though a part of his consciousness sought to identify it, another, sleepier part only appreciated the heat. It wasn't until the sound of the door clicking shut snipped through his dreamy state like a pair of scissors that he blinked his golden eyes open.

He grunted and abruptly attempted to sit up right.

"Welcome back, sleepy head," her voice reached him and sounded cheerful and bright. He blinked, turning to glance around in a daze.

"Oh, careful!" She said, bringing a hand to brace his, "Don't drop them!"

He jumped at the contact when he felt her hands touch his. Then memory returned and he carefully cradled the precious bundle in his hands. The wetness he smelled wafted in from the open window and outside he heard the damp sounds of tires brushing against the drenched pavement.

The rain had ended.

His eyes were magnetically drawn to the delicate, breathing shapes still cradled in his hands and for a brief moment, he was entranced by the soft, grey fur trembling as the rabbits' little hearts pitter-pattered within their tiny bodies. He sighed, feeling almost heady with contentment, idly observing the gaudy red sweatpants adorning his legs, and then he gradually came away that the gentle presence nearby was watching him, waiting for his attention to turn her way.

He turned toward her slowly, almost bashful, and more than a little disbelieving that he had actually slept so deeply beside her on the couch. Her smile was warm when their eyes met.

"Hi," she said simply.

He glanced away in discomfort. He wasn't used to holding eye contact with such a soft, welcoming gaze.

"I was thinking," she said gently, "now that the rain had stopped, we could go lay the rabbit that didn't survive to rest."

…

The sun fought valiantly against the heavy, passing storm clouds and the light around them remained diffused and grey. They didn't go far, around the block and down the street. The same little park where he'd watched her dance with joy in the early spring shower. The barren, skeletal oak tree, with its empty branches stood guard over the empty, sodden playground and the cold, grey dampness of the wooden structures seemed to seep moisture into his own clothes as he stepped onto the springy wood chips.

The air had a crisp, lively brightness to it and when he inhaled, he felt energized, despite their solemn mission. The woman walked beside him silently, subtly guiding him with her nearness like the moon pushed and pulled the tides. She gradually took the lead, cradling the still, cold shape in her hands until she stood before the tall, proud oak. Tenderly, she stroked the stiff, downy body, arranging the baby rabbit in a curled, serene pose. She didn't say a word as she carefully laid the small tuft of fur down in between the protective roots of the tree, just pressed her hand over the body one final time before straightening. Though the space around them was filled with the sounds of remaining raindrops dripping from the trees, the cars that passed by the abandoned park, for him, there was a calm, pervading silence in his memory of the informal funeral ceremony. Upright once more, he watched the girl place a slender, caressing hand against the bark of the sturdy oak, her eyes closed with a soft smile playing at her lips. Within the layers of wooden fiber, he swore he could sense the oak tree spirit respond to her.

The crows circled ominously overhead and without thinking, his lips pulled up over his canines and a soft growl began to vibrate in his throat.

"They are allowed to take their share," a quiet voice beside him said, softly, but assertively. Kagome wasn't looking at him, her gaze calmly, serenely, directed down at the little grey tuft of fur.

"Life will die and beget new life. There's no need to guard the body, it will go back to the earth and return in another form." At this point, she turned to him, her dark, brown eyes boring holes into his soul. It would be far too easy to fall into them, as they seemed to ask him to, to let go of all the harshness his life had been and to find comfort in what she offered.

"You cared," she said, "You cared to try to save it. You cared to say goodbye. Your intention, your acknowledgement, that's more than enough for this one young life."

They stood there for some time, gazing solemnly down at the small, still lump of grey fur nestled comfortably between the roots of the great tree. The tiny, baby rabbit looked as if it were sleeping, and any trick of the light gave him the impression that it still breathed. He couldn't entirely pinpoint what it was about that tiny, lost life that touched him so deeply. Him, calloused and hardened as he was. The perfection in the tiny shape's little round paws, the minuteness of the loss of life. There was a finality to the little creature's death that was matched with a powerful bloom of the possibilities of life. How quietly this little rabbit will pass from existence, without acknowledgement save for himself and the girl beside him. And yet he keenly felt its impact, small and humble though it was. His scowl was deep as he stared down at the dead creature, his breath shallow, feeling as though he were dancing at the edge of some epiphany.

"Are you ready to go home?"

Her voice was soft and clear, melodic and bright. It cut through the grey, confused clouds in his mind but it was quiet in the way it demanded his attention. She took his hand in hers and a thrill danced up his arm at the contact.

Something was changing. It burned inside him like a glowing ember and he felt that heat seeping through his veins and invading even his outermost regions. He stared dumbly down at their connected hands, a strange conflicted dilemma tossing inside his mind. And then, she gave him a squeeze, and a gentle tug, and then he was moving, smoothly, easily, following her like it was the most natural thing to do. And then they were back inside and a relief like nothing he'd ever felt before washed over him to be back in that quiet, cozy, comforting place.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for encouraging me to come back to this fic, Evil Illusions! This story is very meditative for me and it's nice to be reminded to slow down and take time to appreciate small things. Work has been amping up so I may have trouble finding the time to write at all for a bit but will definitely try to keep a reasonably steady stream coming in the upcoming months.

A bit of a bluer chapter than I had originally intended but I hope you guys liked it!

Thanks for reading! Till next time!


	9. Breakfast at Kagome's

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 9: Breakfast at Kagome's**

* * *

He wasn't fully conscious when the first sounds of life began to stir in the bed across the room. A rustle of sheets, a soft groan, a deep long sigh. It roused him slowly, coaxing him back and then the rest of the world began to unfurl to his senses. The now familiar scent of old and new paper, something warm and welcoming, drew his conscious mind back to the world of the waking. He kept his body still for a long time after he returned to consciousness. His breathing remained deep and even. His eyelids never fluttered. His ears belied his mind's wakefulness, however, and they flicked forward to monitor the fast tapping of a pair of little heartbeats, nestled in a little knitted nest on the table beside him. And further away, a sigh from the bed told him Kagome still slept. The peaceful quiet of that little moment in time felt surreal to him as he slowly allowed his mind to wander. What a powerful thing it was, to awaken into a state of complete security, to feel safe and comfortable, wrapped in warmth and compelled to rise, not by some dire urgency, but the calm gentle breathing of a nearby and friendly presence.

"Mmmmmorning," she murmured, turning over on the bed.

Golden eyes cracked open and his ears flicked in her direction. A wave of comfort filtered through his body as his eyes focused on her. The frizzled hair and bleary eyes. Soft and welcoming in her shapeless sleepwear, she seemed to have merged with the bedsheets sometime during the night. He didn't even realize the smile that spread across his face.

Kagome grinned back at him, slowly coming back to life. With another groan, she hauled herself off the bed. She stumbled to the bathroom, closing the door with a gentle click. Despite the private nature of her activities, he found he was keenly aware of the sound emitting from the closed door. Eventually, the rushing water of the faucet was shut off and Kagome emerged, fresh faced though her eyes still held the dewyness of sleep. The closed briefly as she yawned, bumbling blindly back into the studio room.

"Nnnnnhungry?"

He wanted to say yes. The word was already lying in wait on his tongue but his jaws clamped shut. The walls that protected his heart remained steadfast and he could not bring himself to accept the offer.

She didn't seem to care that he hadn't responded.

"Coffee first, then I'm thinking bacon..."

She padded softly into the kitchen, her baggy pants trailing on the ground. A familiar clatter arose from the kitchen, the faucet and running water, then the click of the water kettle as she busily went to work grinding her coffee beans. Intermittently, he hear her humming under her breath and the lull of her gentle melody nearly brought him back to the brink of sleep.

The fridge door opened and shut, then a crinkling sound precipitated a waft of savory, smokey goodness and then his ears were alert and eager to discover the source of such delicious scent. The young woman glanced at him when he appeared at the doorway to the kitchen, nose twitching as he spied her by the stove. She smiled and laughed, holding up the plastic packaging.

"Can't beat bacon in the morning, can you?" She asked.

He had to hold back his salivating in response and only gazed at the package she held hungrily. Kagome laughed at him, then gestured him to enter the compact kitchen. It was a tight space, with hardly enough room for a single cook, much less two. But she didn't seem to mind, absently resting a hand on his arm as she maneuvered around him. There was an electric jolt that rushed through him in the wake of her fingertips and he stared dumbly at the chopsticks she held out to him.

"Think you can handle flipping the bacon so it doesn't burn?" She asked him, her voice breaking through his trance and spurring him into motion. Without a word, he grasped the utensils, only capable of obediently taking up position beside the stove after she flashed another warm smile his way. He was getting spoiled by the tender, casual treatment and there was a part of him that was alarmed by this. The other easily and gratefully surrendered to the comfort of her easy company.

Kagome was busying herself with her water kettle, carefully pouring the hot water through her coffee filter and licking her lips in anticipation of the dark, bitter beverage. When she glanced up at him, her expression quizzical, he felt a flutter of concern before she smiled again and nodded toward the thickly sliced bacon, urging him to throw it on the skillet.

Hot, sizzling fat immediately began to sing and smoke when it met the cast iron. He jumped, startled when a stray droplet landed on his arm. Kagome was on him immediately.

"Careful!" She exclaimed, pulling out a splatter shield for him to use. And then a fragrance like nothing he'd smelled before engulfed his senses and if he thought the smokey smell of raw bacon was delicious, the heady scent of it cooking was intoxicating and he had to be reminded to flip the strips of goodness before they burned. He could hardly wait for them to cool and was tempted to throw a smoking, searing slice in his mouth, headless of the burn.

"Calm down, dummy," Kagome laughed, "There's no hurry."

Kagome pulled down a plate from her cupboard, setting it beside him at the counter before disappearing to the couch, taking a noisy sip from her steaming mug of coffee. The baby rabbits were awake and she cradled them in her lap, their little twitchy noses reaching up to investigate the large finger that descended to stroke their soft downy fur. Inuyasha watched her in between tending to the stove and very soon emerged with a plate piled high. He hesitated before setting the bacon down, a fleeting moment of conflicted confusion reminding him that only a day ago, he'd been cold and wet and homeless. Kagome looked up at him, taking his bewilderment in stride and reaching out to grasp his wrist, urging him, stiff and unsure, to take a seat beside her, their meaty breakfast cooling to an edible temperature.

"I have to go to work today," she told him, stuffing a crunchy piece into her mouth. He was greatly distracted by the way the bacon grease caught the light and accentuated the roundness of her lips, full and soft. She paid no heed to his inattention and gestured to the rabbits in her lap.

"I'll stop by the wildlife rescue center to drop these babies off," she said. He blinked and refocused his eyes.

"Here," she said, holding up a small, jagged piece of metal. A key. "You might get bored cooped up here all day."

Golden eyes frowned as he stared at the key. Was she seriously granting him free entry to her home? For a long silence, he couldn't bring himself to move. And then as if she'd cast a spell over him, his hand reached up on its own, taking hold of the little metal key in his large, clawed hand. Kagome smiled at him.

"It's nice to have company," she said. She leaned back on the couch, sinking in to the cushions with another strip of bacon in her fingers. A shiny, round droplet of fat slid down her wrist and she raised her hand to lick the oily streak clean. He found himself captivated by the action, unable to tear his eyes away and then she smiled at him again, and it was like a blooming flower bud opening in his chest. The rush of warmth caught his breath and a bubble of emotion welled inside him. Bashfully, realizing he'd been staring, he cast his eyes aside, abruptly reaching out for a piece of meat and nibbling on the salty breakfast. They sat in silence for several minutes, neither feeling the need to speak and both completely content in the cozy, little apartment.

Eventually Kagome stood, readying herself for the day, and while she shuffled in the bathroom changing, he pondered this surprising existence he was living. Just a few days ago they'd been strangers. She'd kept her promise and never asked any questions of him, his past or who he was. How could she trust him into her home like this?

When she burst back into the main living space, dressed for the day in a loose fitting collared shirt and jeans, he'd come to the realization that he was indebted to her, not only for providing him shelter, but for saving him in the first place of the gaping hole in his stomach that had only just healed. So as she gathered up the little rabbits and turned to leave, his lips and tongue surged into motion to offer the only thing he could from a half demon that owned nothing but himself and the tattered clothes he'd come to her in.

"Inuyasha," he said, staring boldly into her eyes as she turned, her hand still on the door knob, "My name is Inuyasha."

* * *

A/N: hey folks, sorry for disappearing for so long. if you back and reading this, thanks for waiting! not sure what the hell happened but work has been nuts this year... last week was the first time in a long time that i was able to stay home and actually cook breakfast in the morning and then I felt like giving Inuyasha a bacon breakfast. haha, the more i write this story the more jealous i am of Kagome and her seemingly whimsical life in this fic...

anyways, a couple commenters have asked about their backstories, etc and i'll probably start slipping of bit of that into the upcoming chapters. at the same time, this fic is intended purely for my own sanity and I really only plan on writing chapters about little moments that help me relax (i.e. making coffee, or sitting down to a plate of cookies, etc), so it may take a while for the full backstory to come out... :P


	10. Dinner for two

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 10: Dinner for two**

* * *

He spent a long time standing beside the bed, the empty silence after Kagome's departure somehow holding his body still as he absorbed the peaceful warmth in the little studio apartment. There was a strange aching hollowness he felt, standing there in the silence. It wasn't discomforting, however, but oddly peaceful and reflective. Golden morning light streamed in from the open window and the floating dust gave the studio a magical feel. But it was also so empty. It was a wonder, how a space already so full of clutter could feel suddenly vacant without Kagome. It had been her energy propelling him forward since he'd reappeared at her doorstep and her absence put him at a loss, his thoughts frozen. It took his mind several moments to unstick, to turn to other things, like the cheerful cat figurines on the shelves that seemed to wink at him in the sunlight. He blinked. Then he huffed. And, feeling bold, he stepped up to the shelf to lean in and closer inspect the waving lucky cat. The thing winked again. A trick of the light? A hallucination. He frowned at the figurine. Seconds passed and no further life could be detected and Inuyasha turned to look around the rest of the room.

As it was that first night he'd woken injured and bedridden beside her, Kagome kept her apartment in a state of chaos. Scraps of paper, with splashes of color or whimsical doodles scribbled across them, lay alongside random articles of clothing, pillows, ribbons, and goodness knows what else. With very little floor space available to him, Inuyasha found himself tiptoeing between the haphazard objects on the floor, ultimately making his way to the disorganized wooden desk pushed up against the wall. He had a distinct memory from that first night, the sounds of swirling porcelain and tinkling glass. What sort of project had the girl been embroiled in?

Curiously, he leaned over the table, his eyes taking in every detail. The desk was well used and old, he feared if he breathed to strongly, the entire thing would collapse. The painted surface was worn away and the lines and patterns in the wood grain were smooth and relaxed. It was an artist's desk. That was very clear to him. With splotches of spilled paints and jars crammed with brushes, their fibrous tips still stained with color. He sniffed carefully, detecting traces of the various minerals used to create the vibrant pigments.

Besides the bathroom, the only other space to investigate was the kitchen. With just the slightest feeling of committing a transgression, he ventured across to the fridge. The scent was faint and cold but he recognized the beef stew container immediately and his hand began reaching for it before he realized it. Drawing back, he frowned, conflicted. She'd said he could help himself to anything. And she clearly meant it. He felt his heart shift inside his chest as he debated internally, the cold air spilling out from the open door and brushing against his bare toes. Sighing, he shut the door. No. She'd already fed him enough. How could he take more?

There was a clock in the wall of her room and it ticked off the seconds slowly. How long would she be away, he wondered. How long would he have to wait?

…

There was a loud thump at the door and Inuyasha sat bolt upright, disoriented and bewildered. He'd been sleeping? When did he fall asleep? What time was it? And then, more importantly, who was the intruder? He quickly leaped off the bed and planted his feet in ready position as he waited for whomever was at the door to enter.

Keys jingled at the doorknob and a familiar face burst through and he relaxed, surprising himself by the wave of concern he felt as he noted the sagging, worn look on her face. Her dark hair tumbled over her eyes as she leaned heavily against the door while removing her shoes and under her breath, he could hear a muttered stream of words.

"I hate first days back from vacation," she said to herself, "Too many emails…"

Tossing her hair from her face, she looked up at him and smiled brightly, all traces of exhaustion suddenly vanishing.

"Inuyasha! How was your day?"

His body reacted very physically to her smile and it felt as though his throat had to battle itself before feeling even remotely capable of responding.

"I… I ate all the stew," he managed to stutter.

The girl didn't miss a beat.

"That's ok, I was gonna go grocery shopping tonight anyway," she said, letting the door close behind her as she came all the way in. Her beaten old backpack was shrugged off beside the bed, landing with a small thud. She raised both her hands above her head and Inuyasha jumped, startled, when she let out a high pitched squeal. Her spine answered her with a little series of pops as she stretched this way and that, and then she sighed as she let her hands flop back down to slap at her thighs. Rummaging through an overstuffed dresser, Kagome pulled out a baggy pair of pants and proceeded to change out of her jeans right there in the middle of the living room. Inuyasha squeezed his eyes shut almost reflexively, only opening them when she spoke again.

"What do you want for dinner, Inuyasha?"

Inuyasha was beginning to wonder if this woman ever cared to wait for responses to her questions. She was in motion, even mid question, and had pulled a large shopping bag out of seemingly nowhere and was motioning him towards the door, keys jingling merrily in her hand.

"Ah! Shoes are a must this time," she told him, handing him the pair of flip flops he'd discarded during their rain dancing venture. After he shuffled his toes into the straps, he looked up to find her assessing him with a steady, thoughtful stare.

He stiffened instantly, caution always his first reaction. She blinked when his body language changed and smiled.

"I think I could make a charm to give you more of a human look," she said, "It's probably a good idea since there's still a bounty on your head."

He was taken aback by this, surprised that she might have holy powers. Sure there were charms and blessed objects all over her apartment but that said nothing of the mystic capabilities of its occupants.

Again she didn't falter in the slightest when he didn't respond to her. Instead, she brought her palms together, interlocking her fingers so that only her slender index fingers lay extended against each other. She muttered under her breath and suddenly, he felt the familiar powers of a miko rise up to press against his own, her energies coming off of her in waves. Yin and yang always clashed and he so braced himself against the burn of her powers. His skin prickled and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and there was a brief, irrational moment where he believed she might do him harm.

"It's ok, I'd never hurt you."

Inuyasha glanced at her, surprised. And when she placed the charmed beaded necklace over his head, the enchantment was warm against his skin, soothing rather than abrasive and he frowned, taken off guard by the idea that a miko's powers could touch his demon energies so gently. Astounded, he stared at her, his eyes asking for some kind of answer, but Kagome only smiled and turned and led him out the door.

…

This was extremely bizarre. Inuyasha was experiencing the strangest, most surreal moment of his life, following this peculiar woman around the grocery store. Every shiny metal surface, from the sides of pots and pans, to the rounded mirrors positioned around corners of several aisles, nearly made him jump out of his skin as his dark haired, brown eyed reflection stared back at him. The girl had done the job well, her enchantment extending to his hands, masking the lethal claws with soft, rounded humans nails like hers. And all the while, the beads around his neck pulsed with a warm, soothing energy that was at once foreign and nostalgic. He just couldn't place it.

"You know what, I'm thinking steak," Kagome was saying, completely overlooking his distraction with staring at himself in the glass doors of the dairy section. She grabbed his hand and began marching along the perimeter of the store, quickly locating the wide variety of meat products available. The store was awash with sights and scents he'd never had access to in his life. Fruits of all shapes and colors, sweet and sharp. Vegetables smelling green and fresh like captured sunlight. And now in the meat section, he spent several long minutes sniffing the air while Kagome perused the steaks, the scent of cold and processed flesh initially unnerving him nearly as much as the sight of a wall of sliced carcasses. It was his first time in a grocery store and the myriad of choice was overwhelming. Kagome's hands hovered over the options, her fingers fluttering as she tried to make up her mind. Around them, other shoppers were busily making their choices and rushing home to cook dinner. As he slowly acclimatized to this alien setting, he began to take notice of the crowds around them. He'd never been able to walk out so boldly in public before, always forced to hang back in the shadows. The normalcy with which these bustling strangers treated him furthered the dreamlike disconnect he felt with his present situation. He could stand among the people and stare. And when they glanced up to make eye contact, they'd smile at him. Friendly, if slightly confused, smiles. Unsettled by these interactions, Inuyasha brought his attention back to Kagome, who was now leading him in a dizzying tour of each and every aisle while she searched for one last elusive item.

"Ah ha!" She exclaimed finally, triumphantly leading the charge with her arm extended like she was leading an army. The can of corn clunked cheerfully in her basket as she began to move toward check out, while he trailed after her like a duckling.

She led the way out of the store, and it took Inuyasha a moment or two of staring at her back before his arm reached out on its own. The bright eyed look of appreciation as she smiled at him sparked a warmth inside him, drawing a shy smile to his own face as he took charge of her bags. Typical of her carefree attitude, she whisked around and continued to her apartment, gate bouncy and upbeat and her hair swung in time with her strides. Once again staring at her back, Inuyasha mulled over this soft, delicate sensation rising up inside him, swelling like a slowly rising tide. It was at once powerful and fragile, and something to be fiercely protected, and brought to life by the presence of this whimsical and completely baffling young woman who was now beckoning him inside her home.

…

She was a whirl of motion as soon as they entered and immediately disappeared into the kitchen. The, by now familiar, clatter of pots and pans clanging against each other erupted from the doorway and he moved to peek inside curiously.

He should help, shouldn't he?

It wasn't fair of him to reap the generous benefits of Kagome's cooking and protection like some child burden. It wasn't honorable.

But, what assistance could he offer? The kitchen was cramped and he certainly had no culinary skills to speak of. Would he not simply get underfoot and cause accidents?

Kagome wasn't going to let him stay on the sidelines and motioned for him to join her. The handle of a knife was pressed into his hands and she set him to work, chopping vegetables in the corner while she sprinkled this and that over the red, marbled steak. Their backs were practically touching and his skin was flushed hot by the knowledge of her proximity. Eventually, she claimed the dice greens and set them to steam over the stove, replacing the knife with a pan and opening the window.

"Ok," she said seriously, "This is gonna smoke a ton. I need you to keep the smoke _away_ from the smoke alarm."

Inuyasha looked up where she pointed, a little disc with a blinking light attached to the ceiling. The meat sizzled explosively when she laid it down on the skillet, smoking immediately.

"Start fanning!"

There was great urgency in her voice and he responded in kind, his superhuman strength creating a whirlwind in the tiny kitchen. Kagome began laughing hysterically, confusing him and he was already slowing when she grasped his wrist to stop him.

"Hold on! Hold on, I need to tie my hair up," she managed to say through her laughter, "It's like you're trying to blow me to Oz!"

Pausing in his mission turned out to be the wrong decision for the little disc above their heads suddenly began blaring the most atrocious, horrific sound he'd ever heard in his life. The pan fell to the ground with a bang but he could hardly hear it, his head ringing from the alarm, even as he pressed both hands over his ears in a futile attempt to block the din. Disoriented by the loudness, he hardly noticed hands on his shoulders guiding him out of the kitchen and only when the ringing in his head abated slightly, did he think to turn around and see what that crazy woman was doing.

Kagome was bravely facing off against the alarm, armed with the metal baking pan. She waved it frantically under the alarm to dissipate the smoke enough for it to stop screeching. It seemed an eternity before the alarm was silenced and even in the quiet, he thought he could hear the echo of the horrible sound. He heaved a sigh in relief, trying to force his shoulders to relax. But Kagome wasn't through with him yet.

"Inuyasha!" She called, "Inuyasha come here and keep fanning, I need to flip the steak!"

The experience left him in a considerably sour mood and he grumbled under his breath as he returned to the kitchen. Taking up his post as smoke alarm fanner once more, he slowly came to the realization that a savory, peppery, absolutely mouthwatering scent was saturating the air in the kitchen.

"Oh! This is gonna be yummy!"

Curiously, Inuyasha glanced over her shoulder at the searing meat. There was a brown, bubbling crust, sizzling in its own rendering fat, and it steamed and popped merrily in the cast iron skillet. As he swallowed several times to keep his salivating in check, Inuyasha began to think that perhaps the aggravation of the alarm going might just be worth it.

In very short order, dinner was plated and the coffee table in the living room was soon crowded with steaming plates and bowls.

Kagome sighed and sank down deep into the couch, a steaming mug cradled carefully in her hands. The floral, soothing scent of chamomile drifted around the room and Inuyasha found himself sighing as well.

"It was such a long day," Kagome groaned, letting her head fall back against the cushions, exposing the thing, soft skin of her neck. She tilted her head left and right, stretching the tight muscles, cramped from a day at the desk, and Inuyasha was completely transfixed. Strands of hair fell across her face and neck and he suppressed the strangest urge to reach out to brush them aside. And when she brought herself upright again, eyes soft and sleepy, to smile at him, a jolt slammed down his spine that left him tingling.

"Alright!" She said, rubbing her hands together in gleeful anticipation, "Let's dig in!"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	11. A beautiful day in the neighborhood

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 11: A beautiful day in the neighborhood**

* * *

"Alright, I'm off!"

The door clicked shut behind her and an echoing silence rushed in to fill her absence. The sunlight was warm on his back and his ears twitched, listening to the mini orchestra of songbirds outside. Inuyasha sighed, glancing around at the messy apartment and, though friendly and familiar, he felt a strange discomfort rise up in him. With Kagome gone it was far to quiet and far to empty. He glanced around restlessly, finding himself in an odd state of agitation, feeling his isolation in the small, cozy apartment and being driven mad because of it. Outside, the rest of the world was stirring to life, the sounds of doors opening and slamming, cars revving up, voices greeting other. He wore his tension in his brow as he listened to the activity. A neighbor stepped out nearby, the jangle of keys dancing before the correct one was fitted into the lock sounded bright and inviting somehow. Gradually, the sounds of passing cars pick up in frequency, until a steady stream was zooming by, each containing a busy driver, rushing to work, or to send children to school, or tend to one task or another. The world outside buzzed with purpose and urgency. And he sat indoors, sheltered, and surrounded by stillness.

He was standing before he realized it, charmed beads in one hand, the remnants of a dark roast morning brew in the other. He moved with a confident, relaxed ease, gently placing the coffee mug in the sink before turning toward the door. As he passed in front of the bathroom, he glanced at himself, frowning just a little. Dark hazel eyes stared back at him, set in a serious face, framed by dark black hair. It was still an image that sent a shock through his spine every time he saw it. The boy in the mirror was human, clean, and decently dressed. His jeans had no holes, his shirt was well made, although its design was bizarre, with the image of a particularly disgruntled looking feline with piercing blue eyes glaring out at the world. This wasn't the white haired, golden eyed demon in rags, barefoot, and hungry that he'd been so recently. And it was with conflicted dissonance that he regarded himself for several seconds before frowning at his reflection, daring it to dissuade him from what he'd determined to do. He took a bracing breath, unsure exactly why he felt so anxious of this venture, and then turned and marched out the door.

"Oh! Hello there."

He'd hardly managed to set one foot outside when he was immediately met with a stranger. Panic rose up in him faster than a flash of lightning and he froze, eyes wide and jaws tight, taking in the old, hunched figure before him.

"You must be Kagome's friend," the old lady said. She had a serious face and she regarded him solemnly, with an intensity that instantly put him on guard. There were more wrinkles on her face than he could recall ever seeing on a single person, giving her skin the look of an old, wizened tree that had weathered hundreds of years of storm and wind. Feeling like a child being caught in some mischief, he turned slowly to face her and nodded cautiously. Despite the charmed disguise, he felt vulnerable, exposed, sure of unseen threats that could attack him at any moment. He gripped the apartment keys fiercely, squeezing them tight in an effort to quash the urge to flee. The old woman continued to regard him, without a word, or even a blink, and it was to his immense relief when another neighbor stepped out to break the silence.

"Miss Kaede! Good morning!"

"Good morning, Toshio," Kaede responded, turning from her assessment of him to greet the neighbor. "Your car is again blocking my back door this morning."

"Ahh… I'm sorry, ma'am. I'll go move it now."

Kaede nodded, her expression hardly changing. "Good," she said, before turning her attention back to Inuyasha.

"Tell Kagome I have a new artifact I need her to bless," she told him, "It's a particularly stubborn thing and I can't reason with it anymore."

Inuyasha frowned, mildly confused by the request but decided to save his questions to ask Kagome later. Instead, he nodded, which seemed to placate the old woman and she turned to lumber down the stairs, her old wrinkled knuckles gripping the railing tightly.

"Oh, and hanyou," she said, her words rooting him to the spot, "If you are loitering around today, I have one or two tasks for you to make yourself useful."

And with that, this Kaede woman departed, her slow, shuffling gait finally delivering her back to her unit. Inuyasha wrinkled his nose, deciding he was most definitely not going to be helping out little old mysterious ladies today, heaved a breath, squared his shoulders, and proceeded down the stairs into the apartment courtyard. The complex was a simple one, with two levels of apartments facing a simple, green space, set up with several planters for the renters to cultivate. Inuyasha glanced around, noting that only one planter appeared to have life, positively bursting with vegetables and sweet smelling herbs. Lacking any horticultural inclinations that morning, Inuyasha swiftly located the gated exit of the complex and soon found himself beside a small local road. The sun peered down warmly at him and he paused there, marveling over the sensation. Unveiled, he normally moved in the shadows, only glimpsing the sun from various hidden corners and behind dumpsters. When had he last stood so boldly in the sunlight, smelling the green, green grass and been able to glance left and right and leisurely take the time to ponder where he felt like going?

Walking down the street was a strange thing. People passed him, hardly glancing up to notice him. And when they did, a direct look, without fright or disgust, and then a nod of greeting before moving on. The sun was warm, the sky was blue, and the sounds and sights that he might have previously viewed with wary suspicion were now sources of curiosity. The sprinkler system in a front yard started up, causing him to leap out of his skin before staring down at the simple, fascinating contraption. Impacter arm flickered rapidly against the stream of water, creating a strange _ffft, ffft, ffft_ sound that gave the impression that the little device was laughing, spraying water around the lawn in little misty droplets and refracting the sunlight into fragments of rainbows. The water added a fresh, clean scent to the air around him and he inhaled deeply, a feeling of comfort and peace wrapping around him as though he'd adorned himself with the warm aura of Kagome's apartment and worn it out like a garment.

A little ways down and a team of workers were milling about, pushing the loud, gassy lawn mower around or raking away the clippings. They paused as he approached, smiling and waving as he passed. In another yard, an old graying man was watering a collection of roses, a peaceful smile in the old wrinkled eyes. The frail figure turned as Inuyasha moved past his driveway.

"Good morning, young man," the old man called warmly. Shyly, Inuyasha raised a hand, returning the gesture and felt a wave rock through his body. To be recognized and acknowledged, greeted and to hear the words "good morning" as he passed. The cloak of Kagome's presence bolstered him, embraced him, and tugged at him to explore the sunny neighborhood block more.

A fat calico cat yowled at him before lifting a leg and grooming itself in full dignified feline glory. Squirrels chittered as they danced along the powerlines. Cars passed, mailmen smiled and nodded, children on bicycles pedaled by, shouting at each other as they rushed to school. An occasional dog started up a ruckus as he sauntered by. He wandered farther, meandering his way back to the little playground park with the wide, wooden shelter and the tall guardian oak. The little rabbit's body was nowhere to be found, only a tuft of fur here and there, and a shard of white in the grass. A constrictor wrapped around his heart then, squeezing, and a frown found its way to his face.

 _Life will die and beget new life._

Her voice drifted through his memory and he felt the tension ease.

' _You cared,'_ She'd told him, ' _That's more than enough for this one young life.'_

Overhead, he spotted a raven, dark and sleek, in the branches above him and just a little further, a mass of twigs and branches, somehow adhering together as though to defy gravity. The raven stared down at him with its black, emotionless eyes, assessing and intelligent, with a wisdom that seemed odd in such an ominous looking bird. It fluffed its feathers, let out a loud, piercing caw, then hopped up to its nest and settled in, a look of contentment in its expressionless face. The wind rustled the oak tree's branches but the gentle oak stood firm, sheltering the budding new life that was growing thanks to another's sacrifice.

Experimentally, he reached out a hand to the rough bark, feeling the age in the tree under his calloused palm. The wind blew past again and the rustling in the upper branches whispered to him. His yin energies could not call upon the spirit that lived within but in his contact with the oak, he swore he felt a response, a gentle recognition of his presence. Carefully, he drew back his hand, solemnly regarding the old tree and finding his feelings mixed as he heaved a long, bracing sigh.

He wasn't sure just how long he stayed there, eventually taking a seat under the protective shade of the gnarled old oak tree. He sat with his legs spread out, feeling the dampness of the rich, dark earth seeping into his jeans. The bark was rough and supportive against his back and overhead, he listened to the rustlings and the stirrings of the raven couple as they tended to their nest. Occasionally, a child's laughter emanated from the playground as a grandparent pushed the little life higher and higher on the swingset, or caught the little body on its descent down the plastic slide. Eventually, a familiar scent drifted his way and he looked up as her figure came bouncing through the park toward him, unsurprised that she seemed to know exactly where to find him.

"Inuyasha!" she called, waving. She was in the biggest sweater he'd seen yet, looking like a large blue marshmallow, billowing with each perky step. She had an empty bag over one shoulder and beamed down at him when she got close enough, offering a hand to pull him up.

"Let's go shopping for dinner!"

* * *

A/N: phew, it's been a while! ... aaaaaand it's likely to be another long while... its end of the year crunch time at work right now so i'm not likely to have a whole lot of time until maybe the start of the holidays... figured i'd try to get this one last chapter out before getting back to adulting :)

anyways, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	12. Sense of propriety

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 12: Sense of propriety**

* * *

"Nay, nay, nay," her gravelly voice harried him, punctuated by a strike of her hand on his wrist, "No! Roll it out gently. And look here, you've torn it!"

Inuyasha bit back the urge to sigh, or growl, or slice through the old woman beside him, or some combination of all three options. He gingerly held up the torn dough, the shaggy mess looking limp and sad as it crumbled apart. The room was stuffy and dusty and pulsing with an uncomfortable energy and every part of him desperately wanted to escape back to the safe haven of Kagome's apartment. How did he get into this situation in the first place?

…

(Read in spongebob narrator voice) A few hours earlier…

…

He felt his entire body lift off the couch when the doorbell rang and his heart thudded against his ribcage. He lay rigid and frozen as he strained his ears, hardly breathing. A high strung silence stretched out as he waited to see if the sound had been real or just his imagination. Seconds passed and no further sound emanated from the door. Slowly, his body relaxed, returning to the state of serenity that saturated Kagome's apartment, which he was beginning to see as home.

 _Ding dong!_

This time he found himself tumbling to the floor, the book in his hands landing beside him with a flutter and a thud. The figurines and lucky cats on the shelves and walls tinkled and giggled to watch him flail around before righting himself. He growled under his breath while climbing back onto the couch, debating internally whether he should move to answer the door. This was the first visitor to arrive without Kagome being here and he pondered the wisdom of making his presence known to the unknown stranger. And then a voice, muffled and dim, passed through the door to berate him.

"Young man," the old, grainy voice said, "If it is your intention to loiter around all day while Kagome keeps shelter above your head, you best get out here and make yourself useful!"

He narrowed his golden eyes at the accusation he heard in her tone, stubbornly keeping his seat on the couch cushions. If he were paying attention, he might have noticed a sparkle in the eyes of the lucky cats lining the shelf above Kagome's desk.

"I can disarm these charms with my eyes closed," the voice threatened, "Don't make me come in there to retrieve you."

Inuyasha shifted his jaw as he teetered on his dilemma. Cautiously, he inhaled deep into his lungs, trying to decipher the meager scent emerging from under the front door. The various tiny presences in the apartment watched him curiously as he carefully placed the charmed, beaded necklace over his head, the disguise falling over him swiftly, before standing to approach the intruder. With one stiff hand held open, claws ready, Inuyasha carefully pulled the door open, his rigid, suspicious expression glaring daggers at the petite, bent old figure standing on the welcome mat. The greying old lady - Kaede was it? - wrinkles deeper than a canyon, peered beyond him inside the messy apartment and clucked her tongue.

"Tsk," she muttered, "That girl is going to set us all alight one day."

She moved to step inside, immediately barricaded from entering as Inuyasha positioned himself defensively. She eyed with her single, bulging dark eye before harrumphing.

"Step aside, hanyou," she said bravely, "I'll not suffer any indignations from you this day."

In one hand, she carried a long, gnarled stick and she used it to prod at his side until he was growling audibly. She had no fear of his grumpy scowl or deep throated grumble, eventually pushing past him and into the room. Oddly enough, the room seemed to greet the old woman fondly, light reflecting warmly off the various reflective surfaces, tiny rainbows appearing in little pockets of sunlight. Inuyasha, on the other hand, had very different feelings towards the trespass.

"Oi!" he shouted, catching up to her, "You can't come in here!"

The old wrinkled eye was eagle sharp and seemed to pierce him as he tried to defend his precious oasis. Snorting through her nose, the old woman responded with an amused voice.

"Oh?" she said, "And what right to this space do you have to prevent my entry?"

"Keh," Inuyasha said, crossing his arms arrogantly, "I live here, you old bat."

"Ah, you live here," Kaede said, a sparkle entering her eye as she nodded a mocking acknowledgement, "So it is _your_ name on the rental contract?"

It felt as though several thoughts raced in rapid succession through his mind, yet the conclusion of his brain was a frustrating, anxious blank.

"Eh?"

Kaede didn't seem to care for his mental malfunction, instead whisking into the kitchen. And it was the sound of running water that caused Inuyasha to blink, frown, and slink to the kitchen doorway to see what the old bat was doing.

"That girl," the old lady was muttering, gently, tapping the old electric kettle's lid, "You and her both, you're going to burn down our entire building any day now!"

Almost as if to answer the grumpy old woman, the lid of the kettle popped open with a distinctly disgruntled clang. The old lady snorted and rolled her eyes. Then she turned to him, a dishcloth hanging from her old gnarled hands.

"Well," she said, her hands finding her hips, "Make yourself useful, hanyou."

Between dusting and scrubbing and extracting a positively ghastly kitchen experiment growing fuzzy white moldy spots from the back of the fridge, Inuyasha was certain he'd experienced every bodily sensation he imaginable, from rolling nausea to light headed vertigo, having sneezing fits enough to cause even his body to complain for a more steady supply of oxygen. Gradually, the tower of dishes disappeared back into the kitchen cabinets and the counter was slowly cleared and wiped down. Still, the old lady pestered him to within an inch of his sanity.

At some point, he was hastily laden with an armful of supplies and hustled out the door, his brain a whirl. Before he knew it, he stood before the old woman's door, watching her fumble with her keys while the eggs she'd placed precariously atop his load wobbled in their bowl and threatened to scramble themselves on the pavement below. For some reason, he felt extremely loathed to find out what would happen if he allowed the fragile little white objects to fall.

He hardly had any time to fully acclimate to the new apartment, stuffy and thick with enchantment and old lady smells. By the time a wrinkle of disgust appeared by his nose, Kaede had ushered him to a rickety old table, even more ancient than Kagome's electric kettle. She set him to work immediately, peeling and mixing and rolling and chopping. The old woman was particularly fond of her old wooden spoon and was liberal in her usage of it, be it to stir together several ingredients, or to wrap his knuckles for wasting too much carrot as he peeled. Poked and prodded as he was, his keen nose only subconsciously took notice of the fragrances rising from the herbs and greens, from the sharp scent of onions to the clean freshness of pea shoots and broccoli. Supper was very nearly prepared by the time Kagome knocked on the door to save him, her eyes dancing with barely contained mirth to spot him seated at the dining table, sleeves rolled to his elbows and a kerchief around his head.

The wash of relief through his veins left him shuddering as his eyes begged her to get him out of here. She gave him a sympathetic look, but made no move to provide an escape route. Instead, she patted him on the shoulder before disappearing into Kaede's steaming, clanking, sizzling kitchen.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he heard her say. Internally, he groaned, his suffering was not yet over for the day.

…

Eventually, he was relieved of his menial tasks as Kagome and the old bat sequestered themselves in the kitchen. Whatever it was they were making, it better be a whole damn feast for all the trouble he'd been made to go through! The smells wafting out were savory enough, and despite his grouchy mood, he couldn't deny that he was eagerly anticipating the meal. His ears perked up to hear Kagome's laughter spill out from the other room and he blinked several times, glancing around him as it suddenly occurred to him just how _normal_ this little occasion was.

The old woman's apartment was foreign to him, yes, and her charms and pet spirits eyed him suspiciously from their physical shells. The air was thick with whatever ointments the old bat was using to preserve herself, and filled with the scents of aged and well used possessions. The aura was so very different than Kagome's welcoming, peaceful oasis, older, thicker, heavier, but he somehow felt comfortable here nonetheless, as if some part of Kagome's apartment had permeated into his skin and now he carried the soothing tranquility around with him. Or perhaps it was the proximity of the girl herself, in the room next over, with her laughter and easy chattering settling his nerves.

At long last, the table was set. Kaede rapped his wrist several times for mistaking which side various cutlery or glassware was set but eventually, they were all seated and presented with a platter laden with juicy, steamed dumplings. Beside it, wobbled a strange collection of amorphous, exploding dough wrapped meat which Kagome gleefully pointed out was his masterpiece, his toils amounting to a rather frightening glob of deconstructed dumpling innards.

"Thanks so much for preparing this, Kaede!" Kagome exclaimed eagerly, "Let's dig in!"

Things were silent for a minute or two, and Inuyasha had to hand it to the old bat, her cooking was good. But soon her dinner conversation had him frowning with both annoyance, and a little bit of fear.

"Just how long is this hanyou going to stay here, Kagome," Kaede pressed. She'd been pushing for his departure the entire meal and Inuyasha was really beginning to struggle with keeping his mouth shut at the table.

Kagome was her usual nonchalant self, shrugging carelessly as she reached for another dumpling. Idly, he was impressed by the quantity of dumplings disappearing into her mouth but his conscious mind was agitated by the topic of conversation.

"You know I always keep my door open," she said, sending him a sly wink, "he can stay as long as he wants."

The old woman blew out an indignant snort.

"It's not proper, young lady!" Kaede insisted, her face and voice completely serious.

"Why do you care suddenly?" Kagome asked, arching an eyebrow, "you never cared about the demons I brought back before."

Keade gave her a hard stare, lifting up her chopsticks to point aggressively at Inuyasha.

"None of them looked like this!"

Inuyasha frowned at the pointy objects being thrust at his nose, decidedly grumpy and growing grumpier by the minute. What was wrong with his looks? Was it the ears? The fangs? Surely he wasn't the ugliest demon Kagome had ever dealt with? But just as he thought to stand and make his ire known, Kagome turned towards him and her deep brown eyes caught his, before slowly roaming to run down and back up his body. Inexplicably, the protracted, wandering gaze brought a rush of heat through his chest before settling behind his cheeks while Kagome responded to the old bat.

"Hmm, you have a point but...," Kagome mused, her tone light and teasing, "I don't have a problem with it!"

The old woman harrumphed disapprovingly but Kagome only burst out laughing, clearly unconcerned with whatever it was Kaede took issue with. Kaede was still shaking her head and grumbling, the wrinkles by her mouth sagging deeper as the corners of her lips dragged them down.

"I will bring a proper room divider tomorrow," she said, "You can at least have the semblance of propriety."

"Yes, yes, Kaede," Kagome said to placate the old woman, before popping another dumpling into her mouth. Her voice never lost the tone of someone on the verge of laughter though, and that might have been the only thing keeping him from jumping in to yell at the old hag. That and the gentle hand that reached under the table to find his knee, a thumb rubbing tingling circles over his kneecap and lighting fires that flickered and danced up his thigh.

…

Much, much later, with Kagome deeply asleep under the covers of her bed, Inuyasha reclined on the couch with his eyes wide open long into the night. He thought of the darkness he'd come from, always on the run from his crime of merely existing. He thought of f the life of rags and hunger he'd lived, the loneliness and the cold. And then he blinked and looked down at himself now. The softness of the borrowed clothes tingled against his skin, the weight of the blankets pressing heavily around him. It surprised him, how quickly he'd acclimated to this routine, waking up warm and rested to the dark, rich smell of coffee every morning, watching Kagome rush off to work. His wounds had long healed and he was more than capable of fending for himself now. But still something anchored him here.

' _He can stay as long as he wants.'_

Inuyasha raised his eyes to the breathing lump on the bed, inhaling deep through his nose to absorb the quiet peace of the room. There was a part of him that almost wanted to cry as the realization washed over him. And in a soft voice into the still and silent space, he asked the slumbering owner of this apartment.

"What if I want to stay forever?"

* * *

A/N: inspired and dedicated to my grandma. She's a firecracker old dragon lady and will boss anyone and everyone around but some of my fondest childhood memories are of her. She also had a lot to say when she found out I was living with my boyfriend :P


	13. Trembling

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 13: Trembling**

* * *

His head shot up in surprise when the door slammed open. At once, his body, startled into alertness, eased as he recognized the figure in the doorway. And then the scent of blood hit his nose. And then he saw her face.

Launching himself off of the couch, he flew to her side, his nose sniffing frantically as he tried to detect any injury that needed attention. Kagome, for her part, seemed to look right past him, stumbling blindly into the apartment and dumping her worn backpack to the floor. Her heavy, tired footsteps managed to elicit a chorus of tinkles from her shelves, the bells and decorative ceramics chiming out with concern. Her lips were tight and her eyes were red. At first, he was afraid to touch her, a confused terror coiling around his heart as he struggled to decide what he should do.

"Ka… Kagome?"

His voice sounded thin and hollow in the quiet space. He stood tense and anxious behind her, watching her stiffen before releasing a shaky sigh.

"Sorry," he heard her say, "I'll get dinner ready soon."

He stood frozen for just a moment more, a painful throbbing in his chest to watch one who'd been so kind to him suffering so clearly. He wasn't used to feeling this way, this piercing empathy for another person. His eyes were serious as they studied her, dirt smeared jeans, a blood stained shirt. Her hair was wild around her shoulders, sticking out at odd angles. But it was her face that struck him the hardest. She'd clearly been crying, and her eyes were welling with tears that had yet to fall. There was an angry slash across one cheek, and a drip of blood from a clotted nosebleed. The amount of concern he felt shocked him, holding him rooted and mute until finally crashing through whatever barriers he had about involving himself with others, prompting him into action.

"You look like hell."

He winced as the saner half of his brain gaped dumbfounded at this first ever attempt at comforting another. The lucky cat on the corner of her desk seemed to berate him for such a comment. The statement seemed to land, however, as the woman's shoulders heaved with a snort of laughter.

"Yeah," she said, weariness apparent in her voice, "You can say that again…"

She began to move toward the kitchen, every motion haggard and exhausted. There was a feeling of wrongness in him as he watched her begin to take out food for the both of them, a pressing feeling, pushing him forward with a hand and an offer.

"Just sit," he said, coming up behind her. He was taking the cold dishes from her hands before he was even aware of it. "I can do it."

Her eyes were round and surprised then they turned to look up at him. Despite enjoying this bizarre living arrangement for several weeks now, he hadn't ever stood so close to her before. Suddenly, he became very aware of her petite stature, how slender and delicate her arms and shoulders were. She wasn't frail, her entire aura seemed to exude a strength and fortitude, but up close, she really was still just a small human female.

"Are you sure?" she asked, surprise lifting her voice, bringing it closer to her usual, warm timbre.

"Keh, I know how to use a microwave at least," he said gruffly, suddenly self conscious. He jumped when she placed a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. Looking back down at her, he was startled again to see a new wave a tears collecting on her lashes.

"Thank you," she said softly, "I'll… go clean myself up."

He watched her disappear into the bathroom, his ears pricking to hear the sound of running water. Then, shaking himself, he turned to the business of heating up leftovers from the fridge. The only refrigerator eager offered up the options, and the microwave buzzed industriously. Everyone was anxious to help make the apartment's tenant feel better.

Perhaps she'd forgotten, or perhaps she was too upset to care, but it wasn't long before his sensitive ears picked out the sounds of whimpers from the other room. He paused at first, teetering in his dilemma to check on her, on the one hand figuring she'd want some space, while on the other desperately wanting to do something, _anything_ , to stop her pain. His hand hovered frozen in the air, sizzling reheated dish scalding his fingers. The whimpers turned to gasps, and he listened for just a moment longer before he finally couldn't stop himself any longer.

Knocking on the bathroom door, he called her tentatively.

"Kagome? You ok?"

Absolute silence answered him. Not even a splash of water or gasp of breath and suddenly, he was very, very concerned.

Bursting through the door, hard enough to knock it loose from its hinges, he rushed in to glimpse a very surprised face shoot up to meet his eyes. She was in the bathtub fully clothed, which in the moment caused him to frown with confusion and worry. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her hair leaving muddy stains on her already stained shirt.

The clear distress he saw in the lines of her face created a similar agitated distress in himself. His chest felt tight and he was short of breath, completely helpless and clueless in how to respond to the situation. A fight he could handle, attackers from any and all sides. But a frustration took root in him as he struggled, here, to decide a course of action, completely unprepared to comfort another, afterall, it was an action he'd never himself received before meeting Kagome.

The frenzy of emotion swirling to life inside of him caught him off guard, prompting an unfiltered remark.

"What's wrong with you?"

He immediately wanted to bite off his tongue. But Kagome seemed to understand the meaning behind his hard, gruff tone and unfeeling choice of words. Much to his relief, a smile temporarily appeared on her face as she huffed a half hearted laugh.

"Yeah, I look like a wreck right now, huh?"

He realized something as he looked down at her, her wide, guileless eyes staring up at his. Pain and suffering was a normal baseline on which his life had been built. It didn't bother him anymore, not in himself, and not in others. But, as he stared at her, dark hair plastered across her face, her cheek puffy as the angry cut swelled with inflammation, he found that he cared, deeply, about her pain.

He moved, again unconsciously and without thinking. The water around her was murky and brown, but despite that, he reached down into it, finding the backs of her knees and wrapping another arm around her back. She made no move in protest as he pulled her from the water in a single strong motion, feeling a release of sorts to be holding her firmly against his body. Carefully, he set her down, supporting her while she found her feet and engulfing her in his strong, flannel covered arms when she shivered. They were silent at first, for a breath, and then he felt her tremble, her shoulders shaking. And then a gasp, and a sob.

When her arms came up around her, he was surprised to feel a wave of joy despite her continued sobs and tears. That she would pull him closer in this time of weakness, it was a validation of sorts and his heart swelled as she pressed herself against it. Finally, she took a sharp, shaky breath and whispered into his chest.

"I was too late," she whispered, "I couldn't save her in time. I promised I'd find a way to save her and I didn't make it in time."

He brought up a hand to stroke her hair, disregarding the dirty water soaking into his shirt and pants. They weren't his clothes anyway. At this point, everything he had came from Kagome.

"She was a tree spirit," Kagome continued, "I'd been working her case for months. The developer must have bribed somebody to expedite construction and they just tore her down. And then…"

A new wave of sobs swept through her and he held her steady through it. When it ebbed, she became very still, pushing away from him slightly to bring her hands to his chest. He tamped down a shiver when she slipped both her hands inside his shirt, a small part of him panicking over what she was doing and the reactions of his body to such a stimulus. But Kagome seemed focused on something else, her eyes seeing through him. Her hands rested above his chest, feeling his heartbeat, strong and even, if a little fast. Her head was bowed and he couldn't read her face. In normal circumstances, he would never have allowed such proximity for so long, much less wait so patiently for another person to remove her hands from inside his shirt. But he waited for Kagome, watching her as she eventually leaned forward to press an ear to his chest.

"She became an evil spirit," she murmured, "And… to save the people that killed her… to save the people that would eventually live in the apartment they were building… I had to exterminate her…"

Inuyasha distinctly felt a number of very different emotions juxtaposed against each other. A powerful sense of anger over her pain, that someone so kind should be hurt in such a way. An overwhelming sense of joy and comfort in their intimacy, the physical sensation it was to hold and be held so tightly. He felt a gratitude for this woman, and amazement that she would allow herself to care so much and leave herself vulnerable for this sort of pain. And beyond it all, a new feeling he was sure he'd never encountered before. A protectiveness that went beyond obligation or duty, a possessiveness that bound him tighter than any rope or chain. He lost possession of himself at that moment, though even his subconscious did not recognize it. But then, could there be a safer place to entrust his heart than here with this woman?

* * *

A/N: It's been a while for this fic, huh? I wanted all the chapters in this to be relatively stand alone but… a part of me wants to see what happens the rest of this little evening… ;) i might make this little scene a two parter

Also, hugs are the best, aren't they?


	14. Trembling Heart

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 14: Trembling heart**

* * *

Though her physical body of flesh and blood was small, fragile compared to his superior strength and durability, hers was a strength of a different kind. A giving strength. And as he continued to hold her, clumsy and uncertain in his offering of support and comfort, he found himself receiving far more from her than he could give. As though her subconscious aura sensed his distress and moved to comfort him despite her own private struggle. His arms savored the feel of her slender body while his mind was confused, oddly reminded of the tiny warmth it had been to hold the baby rabbits he'd saved from the storm. Small and tender, every tremor and shake she made immediately transmitted to his heart while he held her to his chest. And his heart soared. The incongruous sensation of simultaneous concern and elation were emotions far too large to fit into his ill-used heart and they swirled inside of him, a bizarre kind of unrest that was both agitated and at peace with itself. Her sobs and quaking shoulders eventually ceased, and then the only sounds were the soft drops of water falling from her soaking clothes. She stayed in his arms for a minute longer before straightening suddenly, with a long, loud sniffle.

"Ha," she said, bringing a soaked sleeve to rub her nose, "You're all wet."

He snorted. "You're more wet," he said lamely.

Kagome laughed, moving to a shelf to pull out a couple towels.

"Here," she said, stuffing one into his arms, "Let me finish up here. I'll be right out."

She placed a gentle hand on his back but he stayed rooted where he was. Truly, he'd been frightened for her, didn't know how to react or what to think of the emotional outburst. Kagome looked up into his face, her eyes searching his before smiling a reassuring smile that only seemed just a little too wide.

"I'll be fine," she said quietly, "I promise."

He huffed a sigh, shifting and picking at his wet shirt to pull the clinging material away from his body. As he moved to exit the bathroom, her voice, soft and warm, made him pause.

"Thank you," she said.

He stopped short, turning startled eyes to meet hers. She had an appreciative smile on her face, eyes narrowed slightly in genuine gratitude. Taken together with her bedraggled appearance, Inuyasha felt a surge of wrongness with the picture and rushed out into the living room, confused by the churning turmoil he suddenly felt.

' _Thank you,'_ she'd said. ' _Thank you'_. As if he'd done her some great favor. He stared at the glass panes of her windows, glaring at the white haired, dog eared demon that stared back. What was there to thank _him_ for?

The sound of water resumed behind him and found himself listening intently to it. Water droplets striking the tub in rapid succession. The splat of wet clothes being dumped against the tiled floor. The squeak of the shampoo pump, precipitating a waft of floral scent. He heard her sigh, a long, drawn out sigh, and he breathed with her, the even white noise of the shower and the heave and pull of her lungs easing the tightness in his chest. The faucet squeaked as the water was shut off, causing him to turn and glance into the bathroom, the door barely hanging from its hinge.

She emerged in a billowing cloud of steam, heedless of her nudity or the open door. His eyes went wide as he stared at her, suddenly powerless to look away. He gaped at her, but not for the slimness of her waist or the roundness of her breasts. What he saw poured icy cold water over his gut. Her body was littered with bruises, some fresh, others old. A savage scar spanned her abdomen directly over her stomach. Another jagged slash glanced off her collarbone. She'd always faced away from him the scant few times she'd changed in his presence, and he'd always slammed his eyelids closed before he could absorb any details about her curves or skin. Now, he stared hard at her body, feeling short of breath to witness the physical evidence of her daily work.

Kagome, meanwhile, absently wrapped a towel around herself, clearly enjoying the sensation of being clean, luxuriously dragging the fluffy material over her skin. Yet another hugely oversized shirt turned her into a large amorphous blob, hiding the scars and bruises. She eventually felt his gaze and turned to glance at him curiously.

"Hm?" She hummed in question, "Oh, yeah, I must look like a disaster, huh?"

" _ **Who the fuck did that to you?!**_ "

He couldn't recall the last time he'd bellowed so loud, the trinkets and lucky cat on the shelves trembled before the might of his lungs. He panted from the force of his own outburst, golden eyes wild with a desperate need to smite whoever dared harm a hair on her head. Kagome stood still, her eyes round, her expression frozen as she absorbed the demand.

There was peace for only a second before a snort of laughter precipitated a hearty fit of guffaws from this mystery of a woman. He was flabbergasted by her reaction, frustration growing within him as it seemed the eyes on her walls smiling at his useless concern.

"Oi!" He complained, scowling hard where he stood, muscles tense. He suddenly wanted action, needed to act out vengeance on her behalf. But this uncooperative woman continued to stand there laughing at him, giving no hint or clue for him to track down the enemy.

"Inuyasha," Kagome said, shaking her head and wiping a tear from her eyes. They sparkled, her eyes, unmarred by shadow or sadness. Despite the beating her body was clearly taking regularly, she moved easily, the same upbeat bounce to her step as when she'd dragged him out to dance in the rain. She moved toward him now, taking both his hands and giving him a squeeze, forcing the tense, ready claws to relax.

"It's my job," she said, "I promise, I'm alright."

She brought up a hand to cup his cheek, startling him as her thumb rubbed gentle circles over his cheekbone.

"Now, c'mon," she said, switching gears and moving toward the kitchen, "I'm hungry!"

…

The late evening light cast cool blues and grays onto her skin and clothing. Dinner turned out to be a outdoor affair, Kagome loading him up with delicate, steaming dish ware and demanding him take her to their roof. Normally inaccessible, it was a tricky venture, balancing the collection of precariously secured bowls and crockery. The addition of an injured, battered young woman clinging to his back turned it into a far more challenging endeavor than it should have been.

Inuyasha breathed a long, deep sigh, reclining back to rest more weight on the palms of his hands. It was a beautiful evening, the distant moon emerging from the horizon, round and heavy, as she tediously began to climb up into the sky. Surrounding them, an orchestra of reedy chirping voices sang their love songs into the night. Beside him, Kagome leaned forward, attempting to snag a dumpling from their picnic spread, her chopsticks clacking as they continually missed in the growing darkness. His control slipped and the corners of his lips twitched as he listened to her grumble in frustration before finally producing a little candle tin out of apparently nowhere, producing a warm, flickering glow.

He glanced toward her then, her slender frame completely consumed by her oversized sweater, making her look like a marshmallow with limbs and a head. The new orange light danced and trembled as the little flame sputtered, slowly melting the wax and drawing it up the wick. Kagome was fully occupied in her task of polishing off the second heaping plate of dumplings, her cheeks bulging as she savored one more. She washed the mouthful down with a hearty sip of sake before turning her attention to the next one, apparently defying the laws of physics as more dumplings seemingly vanished into her tiny body. The atmosphere was quiet and pensive around them, and something trembled inside his chest. Nothing ever seemed to faze this woman, no disgruntled, overly-suspicious half demon with a hole blasted through his middle, no sudden intrusion by a friend randomly slicing through her couch, and even now, despite her moment of vulnerability just a few hours ago, she cheerfully sat back with a long sigh, a hand rubbing slow circles over her very full stomach with a sleepy, satisfied smile. She was baffling, carefree and somehow naively positive.

"Yum!" she said, more to herself than to him, "Ah, that was good."

In contrast to her apparent nonchalant, relaxed attitude, Inuyasha couldn't shake the sense of unrest he'd been feeling ever since she first returned home that evening. It flickered and shook inside his chest like the flame the burned between them, trembling at the slightest breeze. This period of shelter, a warm, safe, enveloping shelter, it couldn't last forever and Inuyasha felt himself pressing against the boundaries this refuge, slowly finding it constraining, his own nature surfacing as a small part of him awoke, as though answering a call to action.

He stayed awake long into the night, listening to her easy, even breathing. Following dinner and an awkward, juggling climb from the roof, peace returned to the apartment. After the lights were switched off, he listened to the whisper soft ticking of her wall clock, face solemn, eyes fierce. His breathing was shallow as he contemplated the sleeping figure on the bed, a frown developing between his brows as he recalled waking that fateful night to find himself here, his chest bandaged by caring, expert hands. Even now, she kept her promise. Not a word of his history or identity was spoken, she didn't seem to care. Kagome had looked directly at him, seen the person he was in front of her, and opened her home to him. And every day, while he enjoyed the security of her safe haven, she'd gone out into the world, open and vulnerable to its savagery. His heart beat quickly as a determination took root inside him. Tomorrow, things will change. He felt his blood hum as he locked down on his resolution. It settled him, quieting the trembling in his chest and his thoughts calmed as his mind came into focus. Purpose. Suddenly, he found a purpose.

Tomorrow. Whatever task or foe Kagome faced, tomorrow he would be her shield.

* * *

A/N: Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy in the midst of covid-19! Best wishes and luck to those of you especially at risk and my deepest gratitude to all the healthcare workers battling on the front lines. You guys are heros!


	15. A Series of Curious Encounters

**Mocha Latte**

-Kitty

 **Chapter 15: A Series of Curious Encounters**

* * *

Communication was not his specialty, and he felt it keenly as he watched her go about her daily morning routine. She bumbled her way to the kitchen, that chaotic din of pots and pans, then she bumbled her way to the bathroom while the coffee brewed, eventually emerging in slightly more formal attire than pajamas. He watched her from the couch, ears alert, eyes awake. He'd been so resolved last night, absolutely sure of this new mission in life. Then now as the time crept closer for him to step up, he found himself waffling, second guessing and growing increasingly agitated as the minutes ticked by.

"Got any plans for the day?"

Her voice startled him, cutting through his tense internal mulling and causing him to nearly choke on his own tongue as he briefly pondered her apparent omniscience.

"Eh… nothing," he managed to stammer.

Kagome gave no outward indication that she was wise to his intentions. Her hurried movements and stumbling steps as she managed to get herself out the door were no more hurried or stumbling than any other day. Eventually, she chirped a bright goodbye and then the door clicked shut.

The usual cutting silence following her departure poured in to fill the vacant space. From the shelf, the snarky gaze of the lucky cat seemed to wink at him in the slanted morning light. He only breathed a single, stunted sigh before his body fell into motion.

She rode a bicycle to work, the rickety thing like every other of her possessions, old, creaky, and clearly on its last legs, but stubborn in its determination to service its bright, upbeat master. Her path was meandering, and after following her for nearly twenty minutes from the rooftops, Inuyasha was beginning to wonder if Kagome had a real job at all.

Her first stop was at a small, quiet alley, packed full of local felines waiting for breakfast. The noisy, squeaky things grated on his sensitive ears and thankfully she fed the strays quickly before moving on.

Her next stop was by a bakery, sweet and buttery scents wafting from its doors. The sunlight glistened on the flaky, crispy croissants and Inuyasha was salivating as he stood sentry on a nearby rooftop.

Then she stopped by a park, casually biking up to an old, raggedy woman surrounded by equally raggedy looking pigeons. She traded a croissant for a bag of seed and he spied on them curiously as the befuddling young woman twirled and giggled with the fluttering of grey wings, her smile wide as she fed the cooing flock. A particularly affectionate bird followed her as she moved on, finally joining ranks with hundreds of other commuters furiously peddling to work and his eyes lost track of her. He followed his nose at a distance, easily hopping from one hidden patch to another, gradually making his way to a plain, unassuming high rise squashed between two taller skyscrapers and he carefully selected a nearby tree to assess the lay of the land.

The building was heavily enchanted, that much he could tell. Fortified like a castle, with all manner of armaments against those with evil intent. He didn't need to spot the wards tucked into the corners and pasted on the walls, he felt the energy vibrating, nearly creating a shimmer in the air just inside the glass doors. But folded into the layers of protective charms was a unique and surprising spell pulsing with the same energy beating within the beads around his neck. An inviting spell, one that promised protection to anyone that entered, human, demon, or otherwise. It was a painful sort of twang that echoed through his heart as he frowned down at the entryway. How differently would his early years alone have gone if he'd stumbled upon a sanctuary like this and what it promised?

He hovered near the entrance for a good several hours, debating his next action. It was clear his presence would be immediately found out if he passed through the doors. He could maintain surveillance just outside of the charms and remain undetected, but what sort of dangerous activities could Kagome be engaged in inside? Was it a portal to an entirely different location? Aside from charming the beads, he'd never seen her exercise her holy powers, _could_ a portal be within her capabilities? He fuffled from his treetop perch with a sense of growing impatience. He couldn't protect her if he wasn't with her, but a self conscious, petty pride inside anchored him, reluctant to take definitive action.

The street was a quiet one, facing a lush green park. Dappled shadows swayed as the thick, dense trees rocked in the breeze. The sunlight was bright and joyful as it fed the grass with its light. Inuyasha eventually came down from the tree to take up a more comfortable position on a shaded park bench. Though passers by hardly gave him a second glance, he still felt exposed and vulnerable to be braving the public daylight, even with the disguise Kagome had fashioned for him. Children laughed and shouted from the nearby playground, answered by the chiding voices of caregivers gently reinforcing the principles of sharing toys and taking turns.

He ignored them for a while, focusing on the doors through which Kagome had disappeared. People of all sorts passed in and out of the entrance, each with a furrowed brow that spoke of troubled, anxious worries as they entered, and each leaving with a look of ease and peace. He observed them curiously, gradually forgetting his original purpose as the humans, ghosts, spirits, and everything in between entered the place where Kagome was. He'd never seen so many colorful characters congregating in the same physical space before.

An elderly man carrying a long, wide box approached the doors and paused. It was possessed, an unsettled, restless aura rising from the box like wispy smoke from a fire pit. Inuyasha watched as the wrinkled hands attempted to shift the oversized burden to one side in order to grasp hold of the doors. The hidden figure frowned as a foreign emotion began to form inside his chest. An impulse he'd thought was beaten out of him long ago. The gears in his heart were rusty and groaned as they tried to move, impeded by a reluctance learned from an early age that unnecessary involvement with others tended to land him in hot water. But he'd been recently touched with kindness, unasking and freely given, and it was like oil to the stiff joints and hinges in his innermost core and it drew him out of the tree and hesitantly up to the doorway beside the aging bent figure.

It was a jarring, quiet, yet incredibly profound strike to his heart in the small, still moment when the old man looked up and made eye contact with him. The initial curious glance transformed as the wrinkled eyes recognized his intent. And then appreciation, with a friendly warmth, narrowed the drooping eyes and the man smiled as Inuyasha stiffly jerked open the doors for the overburdened man.

"Thank you, young man," the old, gruff voice said.

Inuyasha stood just outside, a scowl creeping onto his forehead as a minor turmoil swirled inside his mind. A self satisfied joy had entered his heart to receive acknowledgement and gratitude in the small exchange. And a joy in the connection he shared with the elderly man's gaze. Happiness wasn't an emotion he was used to receiving from an interaction with others and he found himself unsettled by his affinity for it. He wanted more.

Another figure approached the doors, a woman with a furrowed brow and thinly pursed lips. Telltale bags hung droopy and tired below her eyes. Undeterred by her closed expression, Inuyasha tried again, pulling open the doors wide for her to pass through.

Again, the connection of gaze ignited a uniquely powerful spark in his heart, encouraged when the woman's weary eyes lifted for a moment, smiling her thanks as she entered. He surprised himself to feel the corners of his own lips quirk in response.

After she disappeared inside, Inuyasha took a step back. Pleasure in the interaction swelled in his chest. His heart pounded. Feeling overwhelmed, he retreated now, reseating himself on the sheltered park bench. His hands gripped the smooth, worn wooden planks supporting him as he assessed himself with a sort of amazed confusion. Something had been unlocked for him since meeting Kagome. A door to the world opened the moment she placed these warm, pulsing beads around his neck. And that sleeping instinct inside of every conscious mind that craved social connection suddenly found itself thirsty, being watered for the first time in his life. And then he felt a wash of something bittersweet sweeping through his heart. Loneliness wasn't something he consciously acknowledged in his life, he was often too busy with the basic necessities of survival. But suddenly, a sensation almost like heartbreak fluttered through his mind as he finally faced the fact he'd been lonely, not just alone, for so many years. Life on the run without the respite of being able to trust and lean against another. And to feel recognition from a stranger for a small kindness. He scowled at himself, feeling his heart contract in reaction to the painful realization. But it was a positive sort of pain as well, a growing pain. And he surprised himself to find that behind the wave of pain, swelled a wave of hope and it eased him as he sat under the tree, feeling the breeze wash over him as if to blow away his gloomier thoughts and leave him fresh with new eyes.

The birds singing above him suddenly fell quiet and the abrupt loss of their melodic chirping brought him back from his thoughts. Glancing up, he followed their beady gazes across the street toward the building Kagome was in. A small, translucent figure hovered nervously on the street corner. A horrific image, a little girl, a gash ripping savagely into her skull, and even more sickening, a dark, bloody stain pouring down the back of her skirt, evidence of a crime too abhorrent for him to linger on for more than his brief, initial realization. The expression on the young face was one of terror and confusion. Busy people walked by, unaware of the ghost on the street corner. The horror on her face when a rushing body passed straight through her was unmistakable and then he was on his feet and in front of her before he realized it. Wide, frightened eyes stared up at him, surprised by his sudden appearance. His jaw locked tight, trying to remain stoic despite his heart sympathizing with the hapless young ghost. Holding out a hand, ignoring the strange looks from others on the street, he waited patiently until the dawning understanding in her eyes transformed to trust and the small, wispy hand settled in his. It was cold and weightless, like trying to capture a puff of cool air. Then he turned, opened the door, and entered the protective boundary of Kagome's workplace.

* * *

A/N: Hoping everyone is staying safe and healthy!

So, oddly, since working from home, work seems to be busier and I'll probably take a writing hiatus until I can find a better rhythm. Don't know how long.. Bear with me :P

Also beginning to reassess this story. Initially only wanted to make it a rambling little collection of dribbles but now it's decided maybe it wants to have a plot… what do you think?


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